Invincible
by alicia-meade
Summary: Santana realizes an attraction to her show choir coach, decides to do something about it, and opens a new chapter of her life.
1. Invincible, Part I

**A/N: This is a bit of a crack ship, but I don't care. 2 hot ladies = 1 hot ship. Also, I had intended _Invincible_ to be a one shot, but I just couldn't walk away. Not yet. This will now be multiple chapters.**

* * *

><p>"I guess this means you're going to ditch Lima again."<p>

Shelby glanced over her shoulder at the voice before returning to the rack of Trouble Tones' shimmering Sectionals costumes, dropping slipcovers over each dress. "I haven't made any rash decisions. We placed second – that's not so bad, considering our group has only been together for a couple months. New Directions has been performing together for three years."

"We should have won," Santana huffed, more attitude in her voice than she really intended.

Shelby hung the last dress on the rack, just as Sugar and Mercedes returned. "Would you girls mind loading these in my Explorer? The back should be unlocked."

"Sure, Ms. C," Mercedes said, dejected.

"Sure, Ms. C!" Sugar parroted, seemingly unfazed by their loss.

"I thought we were guaranteed a win. We had you and your five years of nonstop domination."

Shelby turned and crossed her arms over her chest, obviously taking the loss personally already, without the added guilt from her. "I'm truly sorry I didn't come through for you, Santana."

The sincerity of Shelby's apology made Santana's heart hurt. She didn't want her to feel guilty. After all –

"It's not your fault, Ms. Corcoran. You might be the most badass show choir coach in the country, but even you aren't a magician. Mercedes and I are awesome, but we needed more time to get a real group together. I know we could have crushed that sausage fest of a group if we had more time."

"Santana."

"What? It's true and you know it."

Shelby chuckled and leaned against one of the temporary vanities set up for the competition. "That doesn't make it right. I really would like you to try to bring down your…colorful commentary a few notches."

"Why should I?" Santana lifted her chin and squared shoulders. "This is who I am."

Shelby smiled that sad, lopsided smile Santana had noticed a few weeks ago when she had been attempting to help Sugar find the proper key. "No, it's not."

* * *

><p>No one heard from Shelby for days. Granted, they didn't have Trouble Tones practice scheduled, since it was her policy to give her students five full days off after a competition, but it irked Santana enough to resort to communicating with Rachel between classes.<p>

"Where's that rent-a-uterus mother of yours?"

Rachel winced, but responded as pleasantly as she could. "Shelby and I may be mending fences, but we don't exactly keep one another informed of our whereabouts. Why?"

"She hasn't surfaced since Sectionals."

"Isn't it her policy to –"

"Five days off, yes. But she hasn't even posted an update in our Facebook group."

"I'm sure she's just busy. If you're worried, why don't you just call her?"

"Calling teachers at home is weird you ask me. _You__'__re_ the one that was all, 'Everything I do depends on you' with Mr. Schu."

"It was just a crush, Santana, and that was two years ago."

"So gross," Santana responded, genuinely shuddering.

"Be that as it may," Rachel said, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she closed her locker pointedly, "you asked me a question, I answered it. Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, why am I standing here talking to a gremlin? And not the cute Furby one, but the gross one that Furby turns into when he eats after midnight." Santana huffed and walked away, making sure her shoulder collided with Rachel's as she passed.

* * *

><p>Santana had been contemplating calling Shelby for three days before she had asked Rachel if she'd heard from her. She didn't know why the concept of calling, or even texting, Shelby was so nerve-racking. By the end of fifth period, she had talked herself up enough to plan to call after sixth, but then Ms. Corcoran strode into her American History class moments after the in-session bell and dropped her ever-present day planner on the teacher's desk to get the students' attention.<p>

"Mr. Larson had to leave for the afternoon. My name is Ms. Corcoran, I'll be your sub today."

The class quieted down quickly when she turned to write her name on the board. Santana had noticed the effect Ms. Corcoran had on students when she was subbing in Geometry, but she had never really thought about why. Until today.

It was the way the charcoal pencil skirt hugged her hips and sat high on her waist, the way her legs looked in those black pumps, and the way she would mindlessly toss her hair over her shoulder as she scrawled her name. Santana didn't know why she was noticing this now. She knew even less why she hadn't noticed it earlier. Ms. Corcoran was…hot. Suddenly, Santana felt like Puck, objectifying her in her imagination the way she knew he probably did every day: a tight skirt even tighter and shorter, a shirt unbuttoned far too many times, a lace bra peeking…

"Santana?"

"H-what?" Santana jumped, jerked from her reverie by Ms. Corcoran's voice. "Here." She tried to ignore the giggles from her classmates.

"I can see that," Shelby said with a smile as she brushed her hands together a few times to get rid of chalk dust. "But I'm not taking roll. I asked if you could please define 'suffrage' for the class."

Santana felt her cheeks burning, from both her lingering thoughts and getting called on when she wasn't paying attention. "Um, the right to vote?"

"Are you asking me or are you telling me?"

"Uh…telling?"

Ms. Corcoran put her hands on the teacher's desk, leaning forward, a glint of a teasing challenge in her eye. "I don't know if I believe you."

"Telling," Santana repeated, growing more embarrassed by the second.

"That's correct." Shelby straightened and began pacing the front of the classroom. "And who can tell me where the Women's Suffrage movement started?"

Santana breathed a sigh of relief that Ms. Corcoran was moving on. She never let teachers get the best of her – why did she just let that happen?

She was startled again when the bell rang a minute later. Confused, Santana stared at the clock as the rest of the class fled in mass exodus, the majority finished for the day. The last hour had flown by without her even realizing it. She moved to pack her things, noticing she hadn't taken down a single note the entire hour. Her textbook was still open to the first page of the chapter on Women's Suffrage. She'd been so consumed by thoughts of Ms. Corcoran that –

"Where were you today?"

"What?"

Shelby sat on the edge of the teacher's desk, ankles crossed. "I don't think you heard a word I said all period."

"Don't be stupid, of course I did." Santana frowned and slammed her textbook closed, stuffing it in her backpack with her notebook. She forgot to close the notebook first, though, and a page started tearing from the weight of the book sliding past it. She grit her teeth. She hated when her notebooks got messed up.

"What did today's lecture cover?"

"Women's right to vote." Santana stood up, chin high as she strode down the aisle toward the door – and Shelby. "I defined it for you. _Remember?_"

"Can you tell me who any of the key campaigners were?"

Santana stopped short of the door and turned to face Shelby. "Susan…Boyle?"

"B. Anthony," Shelby corrected. "If you want, I can set aside some time this week to help you review –"

"Look, I'll read the chapter tonight," Santana interrupted. "I was just distracted today."

"By what?"

"You." Santana felt her heart plummet into her stomach. She hadn't intended to say that. Not at all.

Shelby looked taken aback. "Me? What do you mean?"

Santana fumbled internally for a few seconds before straightening her spine. "You've been M.I.A. for days, and then you just waltz in here like you own the place when you haven't even posted your practice reminder for Monday."

"It's been three days, not counting the weekend. And every time I post a reminder in our Facebook group, you comment on it saying you don't need to be reminded."

"Yeah, well…" Santana adjusted the strap of her backpack on her shoulder, glancing from Shelby to the door and back.

"Look, Santana. I'm genuinely sorry about Sectionals. I know how badly you wanted win. But we did our best, and you really were so wonderful up there. If you want to go back to New Directions and have a chance at Regionals, I wouldn't take it personally. It's your senior year, you should go all the way if you have the opportunity."

Santana felt her stoniness faltering. "And go back to being background singer for The Rachel and Blaine Show? No thanks."

"So I can expect to see you at practice on Monday?"

"Does that mean you're staying?"

"For now. I have a meeting with Mr. Motta next week. I guaranteed him a win for his daughter. If he yanks my funding, I'll need to find a new full-time job."

"But why are we even going to practice? We lost Sectionals. We're out of competition."

Shelby smiled another one of her lopsided smiles – this was one of her happy ones. "Contrary to my reputation, not everything I do is solely about winning. Sometimes it's about having fun, just doing what we love."

Santana couldn't help but smile, too. "Yeah, okay. I'll be there Monday."

She couldn't wait for practice now. She always loved Trouble Tones rehearsal, but as her heart pounded in her chest as she walked to the parking lot, she realized she had an entirely new reason to anticipate it. And it was only Wednesday.

* * *

><p>Mr. Larson was out of school the rest of the week. Santana barely had a recollection of what they'd covered in American History for the past three days. She remembered voting rights and something about a store exploding or a plane crashing into a market and everyone losing all their money. She had tried to read the chapters every night, but each time she pulled out her textbook, Ms. Corcoran's face was on the cover, and her black pumps were in the pages, and her cleavage was on her notebook, and she couldn't focus no matter how hard she tried.<p>

"Dammit," she muttered as she slammed her book closed, defeated. She rapped her fingernails on the glossy book cover, refusing to look down and see those green eyes challenging her across the classroom again. Instead, she glanced at her iPhone a few inches away. Shelby had offered to help, after all.

Santana stared at the screen for a full two minutes, biting at her thumbnail and rewording her text message multiple times before holding her breath to hit _Send._ _"__Completely __lost __with __the __stock __market __crash. __Help?__"_

She dropped her phone on her bed and walked away, unable to sit and wait for a response. She hated that Shelby had done this to her – more so, that she had allowed it to happen. No one got under her skin this way. She pulled the elastic tie off her high ponytail and ran her fingers through her hair a few times, allowing the release of tension to distract her for a few minutes.

She had almost forgotten she sent the text until her phone chimed a few minutes later. She dove for it, glad no one was around to see her lacking her usual composure.

"_Of course. Meet at The Lima Bean in an hour? Gotta find a sitter."_

Santana used the hour to pull herself together and change out of her Cheerios uniform and into more comfortable – and mature – pair of jeans, boots, and a striped knit top. She had bit the bullet, accepted that she was ridiculously attracted to her teacher. _Substitute,_ she reminded herself. Asking to meet outside school hours was the first line she crossed. Granted, most of the time she was with Ms. Corcoran was extracurricular by the very nature of their association. But this was different. They were meeting for coffee, not practice.

_And __studying._ Santana laughed at that thought. She'd made up her mind. She knew what she wanted, and she found it as she scanned the tables at The Lima Bean.

Shelby held up two lidded coffee cups as her greeting. Santana put on her best smirk and sauntered across the room, dropping her backpack unceremoniously on the floor as she slid into the chair across from Shelby.

"Thanks for taking the time," she said, accepting one of the cups. She made a pointed effort to let their fingers graze when doing so.

Shelby smiled and opened the notepad she had in front of her. "What kind of teacher would I be if I turned down a student's plea for help?"

"In my experience? One like every other teacher at McKinley. Except Mr. Schuester; he's always eager to hop-to."

"Will does love his students."

"It's a little creepy if you ask me," Santana said. "He could tone down the creep factor a little."

"He's just enthusiastic," Shelby replied, dragging the end of her pen down the margin of her notes. "So what did you want to cover? You said the stock market crash. Did you ever re-read the chapter on Women's Suffrage?"

Santana opened her mouth to lie, but realized the less she admittedly knew, the longer they would be sitting there, together. "Not yet."

Shelby smiled and flipped back a few pages in her yellow legal pad. "I figured. Let's start with the Seneca Falls Convention of 1848."

Santana was surprised at how good of a regular teacher Ms. Corcoran was. Of course, she knew she was a great show choir coach, but being able to make droll topics like voting rights and economics even remotely interesting was an attractive quality. As if Santana needed more reasons to be attracted to her.

They burned through Shelby's notes together. For a few brief seconds now and then, she forgot completely about the way Shelby's eyes sparkled, or the way her lips moved, or the way her left-handedness was completely endearing. Often, she would lose interest in taking her own notes. Shelby would become so animated about something so boring as the Great Depression that she couldn't help but prop her chin on her fist and stare.

"Well," Ms. Corcoran said with finality and a tap of her pen on her notepad, "I think we have you up to speed for Monday's class. Maybe you'll impress Mr. Larson."

Santana's shoulders slumped. "He's coming back?"

Shelby laughed, clipping her pen horizontally across her notes. "I'm just the sub, remember?"

"Yeah but you're so good at this. I didn't think anyone could make history interesting."

Shelby smiled shyly. "I was a bit of a history nerd in high school."

"It shows. In a good way. I think I learned more tonight than I have all semester."

"You flatter me," Shelby laughed, finishing her coffee and tossing her cup into a nearby trashcan.

That was it; she had opened the door. Santana smiled one of her most seductive smiles and leaned forward, resting her hand lightly over Shelby's.

"You deserve it."

Shelby glanced at their hands, but didn't move to pull away. "Santana…"

"You're amazing."

Shelby was blushing. "Like I said, just a history nerd."

Santana let her fingers slip under Shelby's palm, fingernails grazing her skin. "You're beautiful."

"Santana." Shelby was holding her breath. Her eyes flicked around the mostly empty coffee shop. "You're being inappropriate."

"According to who?"

"Whom," Shelby corrected automatically.

"Knowledge is so sexy." She let her thumb trace slow circles on the back of Shelby's hand.

"Santana, please."

"So is begging me." It was Santana's turn to hold her breath. Shelby had frozen at that comment. Maybe she had gone too far, been too direct. She didn't even know if Ms. Corcoran was into other women. She didn't back down, though. It was too late for that.

"I'm your teacher," Shelby finally whispered.

"Substitute." Santana could see her internal battle. Shelby was tempted, even giving it serious consideration, given that she had yet to try to pull her hand from Santana's. The word hung in the air between them. She saw Shelby trying to form a response, but cut her off before she could get that far, voice low. "I want you, Ms. Corcoran."

Shelby's eyes fluttered closed, and Santana saw her swallow, hard. She knew she had her, and she took a minute to congratulate herself that she could have the same effect on women that she'd had on boys for years. "You live nearby?"

Santana's chair screeched across the tiled floor, the ear-piercing sound making Shelby's eyes snap open. Santana was already standing, backpack over her shoulder, eyebrows raised expectantly.

Shelby seemed dumbfounded, staring at her now-free hand, Santana's tucked away in the pockets of her Letterman's jacket. She didn't say a word as she stood and slid her note pad into her oversized black designer purse, nor as she buttoned her coat, nor as she turned and walked toward the door.

Santana followed quickly and pushed the door open for her from behind. Shelby glanced back, barely acknowledging the courtesy.

After trailing behind for a block, Santana realized Shelby had walked to the coffee shop. Knowing this meant Shelby did live close made her heart race. She quickened her steps to catch up, falling in line beside Shelby.

"Felt like a stalker, following you like that."

Shelby just tucked her chin down against the December wind that was picking up and kept walking.

Three blocks later, Shelby stopped on a corner, and looked at Santana for the first time since she had made her desire known. "Wait here. I need to send the sitter home." She turned walked a few buildings up, disappearing through a public entryway.

Santana started to protest, offended that she was being left on a street corner, but the fact that she was just being told to wait, and not told to go home, made her shut up and stay put. She stood behind one of the many uniform oaks that lined the sidewalk, using it as a windbreak while she waited. A few minutes later, she saw why she was told to wait – Puck, unmistakable with that ridiculous overgrown mohawk, walked out and used the railing on the stairs for leverage to launch himself over it instead of just walking down the steps. She tried to slip further into the shadow of the tree, kicking herself for wearing the ridiculously bright Cheerios jacket. He didn't see her though, having parked right outside Shelby's building. He hopped into his truck and was gone.

Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket a moment later – a text from Shelby. "_Come__up.__#4A.__"_

Santana smiled and started walking, only for her phone to buzz again. "_Bldg __1625.__"_ As if Santana had taken her eyes off Shelby as she walked away and missed which building she had entered?

"_Coming,_" Santana typed in response. She knew the word had a double entendre. It's why she used it.

"_Good,__" _came the reply.

Santana grinned and walked faster. She took the stairs two at a time, using the balustrade to swing herself around the landing and up the next set. She was going to be winded doing this for four flights of stairs. She didn't care.

She found 4A at the end a short hallway. The door was open a few inches. She hovered for a moment. This was Shelby's condo. She'd brought her here. She knew what Santana wanted and had brought her here. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it quietly behind her.

The place was decidedly Shelby. Everything had a modern feel, accented with framed posters from Broadway shows sitting along the walls, waiting to be hung. It was disheveled, but organized – the sign of a single mother lacking the time necessary to keep house as well as she was sure Shelby would have preferred. The woman was near militaristic with her schedules and routines – the lack of perfection in her home was cute.

She set her backpack on the floor by the door and pulled off her boots, not wanting to track in melted, dirty snow. She draped her coat over the back of a chair in the kitchen and sat on the couch to wait, playing with the bead maze toy that sat on the coffee table in front of her.

Shelby appeared a few minutes later, closing the door to Beth's nursery carefully behind her. "Sorry, just needed to check on her," she said quietly.

"It's okay," Santana replied, matching Shelby's hushed tone. "I like your place."

Shelby smiled and shook her head, immediately stooping to pick up a few rogue toys scattered on the floor and toss them into the nearby playpen. "It's a mess."

"It makes you real." Santana watched Shelby flit about the room, picking up toys and toddler clothes and bowls and bottles. She couldn't help but stare appreciatively every time Shelby bent down. The jeans she wore were incredibly flattering; not that she needed much assistance in that department. "Who would have thought, the master drill sergeant of show choirs…"

"Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain," Shelby said as she disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, dumping the dishes and bottles she'd gathered into the sink.

"Ms. Corcoran –" Santana started when she came back.

"Don't." Shelby held up her hands. "Don't. Please. Just…Shelby."

"Shelby," Santana restarted. "What I said. I meant it."

Shelby seemed to take a deep breath before pushing herself forward to join Santana on the couch, sitting somewhat awkwardly. "I know."

"How are you so gorgeous?"

Shelby looked away, obviously blushing, and ran a hand through her hair to push it out of her face, only to fall right back into place.

It wasn't a dismissal, so Santana shifted a few inches closer. "Do you have any idea," she let her hand rest on Shelby's knee, "how you make me feel?"

Shelby glanced at her, obviously still fighting a losing battle. "H-how?" she stuttered, letting out a shaky breath.

Santana felt herself growing warm and moved closer, reaching to touch Shelby's cheek. "Like I'm invincible." She felt Shelby lean into her hand and moved closer still. "Like I can be anyone. Do anything."

"What do you want to do?" Shelby's voice was low, syrupy. Her eyes had fallen closed, and the line between her brows that had been visible when she first sat down was gone.

Santana licked her lips. There was about to be no turning back from this. "I want to kiss you."

Shelby turned, her lips grazing Santana's palm. The look in her eyes made Santana want to curl up and hide, or explode. Maybe both. There was so much desire in them that it made her knees weak. She was glad she was already sitting. "I won't stop you."

Santana bit back a moan and changed the angle of her hand, sliding her fingers into Shelby's hair. She didn't hesitate, leaning in to bring their lips together in a soft kiss. She felt Shelby's hand on her shoulder, creeping closer to her neck. She shivered in anticipation and kissed Shelby more firmly.

When Shelby's fingers inched their way up the back of her neck and threaded through her hair, Santana couldn't help herself. She parted her lips and Shelby did the same, letting her deepen their kiss. Shelby whimpered when their tongues met, and the sound was like a match igniting a fuse inside Santana. She became demanding with her kisses. If Shelby wasn't going to stop her, she was going to make sure she never would want to. She started to shift their position, slowly, until she could lay back and pull Shelby with her.

She let her hands start roaming, needing to feel more of her. She wanted to feel all of her, now, but pledged to herself to take this one step at a time. This was too fragile to mess up by being too aggressive, even though all she wanted to do was rip off Shelby's clothes, throw her against the wall, and take her. The thought made her moan and run her hands down Shelby's back, slipping under the plum-colored sweater to drag her fingernails across her warm skin. Shelby moaned in response, the sound making Santana lift her hips against Shelby's, yearning for more contact.

She gasped when Shelby finally broke away from their kiss, only to move to Santana's neck with lips and teeth and tongue that made her start to forget her own name. Shelby bit too hard and it sent a shock through her, groaning from pleasure and pain.

"Shh," Shelby said with a laugh, pushing away to sit upright, straddling Santana's hips. "Don't wake her up," she clarified, cocking her head in the direction of Beth's room as she crossed her arms at her waist to grasp the hem of her sweater and pull it up and off, letting it drop to the floor.

Santana grinned at Shelby's forwardness. For someone so non-committal about starting this, she certainly seemed to know how she wanted it to end. She reached up and hooked her finger in the front of Shelby's bra, barely still in place, the sides already unhooked.

"When did you do that?" Shelby asked, glancing down.

"Honestly?" Santana said, giving a tug to pull the bra down her arms. She struggled to keep her eyes on Shelby's face as she tossed the bra aside. "I have no idea."

"Sneaky." Shelby used the back of the couch for balance as she ambled back to her feet. She held out her hand, and Santana grasped it, letting her help her up.

"Where are we going?" Santana asked, hoping her guess was right. She felt herself pulled close, Shelby's arm tight around her waist.

Shelby's smile was almost wicked. "Somewhere with more space than a couch. Don't trip," she added as she stepped backwards.

Santana had to follow somewhat blindly. As soon as they were moving, Shelby had reclaimed her mouth, making it almost impossible to walk, let alone gracefully. She could tell they had moved through a doorway, and she opened her eyes long enough to make out the outline of a bed in the dim ambient light of Shelby's bedroom. Her hands automatically went to Shelby's backside. If they hadn't been of nearly equal stature, she would have tried to pick her up and carry her the rest of the way. She settled for jerking Shelby's hips against hers, the dull, indirect friction burning low in her belly.

Their progress stopped and she knew they must be at the foot of the bed. Shelby made a move to sit, but Santana gripped her tighter and turned them to sit down instead, Shelby standing between her knees, trailing her lips down the center of Shelby's chest as she went. The realness of the moment made her take pause. She wrapped her arms around Shelby's waist and turned her head, resting her cheek against Shelby. Her skin was soft and warm and she wanted to touch every inch of it immediately.

She felt hands rest lightly on her head, fingertips teasing a scalp massage. She turned slightly, pressing her lips to the inner swell of Shelby's right breast. She heard a sigh escape Shelby as she placed kisses along its curve, slowly working her way closer until her lips grazed the tip.

Shelby shivered, a whisper of Santana's name on her lips as her fingers slid into Santana's hair, pulling her closer. Santana took the hint and caught the firming flesh between her lips, bathing it with her tongue before sucking gently. She looked up at Shelby, face clearly defined in the light from the street lamps filtering through her blinds. Her eyes were closed, head tilted back, mouth open. That she was making Shelby feel this way aroused Santana more; how that was even possible, she didn't know. She'd never been so turned on in her life. She flicked her tongue against the nipple before moving to give the other equal attention while she dragged her nails down Shelby's bare back and around her sides, trailing across her firm stomach to find the button on Shelby's jeans. She undid it easily and the zipper gave way easily, letting her slip her hands along Shelby's hips to push them down.

Shelby's hands disappeared from her hair and reappeared on her shoulders, tugging at her shirt until she sat back, leaving Shelby's breasts painfully bare and unattended a few inches away while she let her pull off her shirt. As soon as it was off, she returned, teasing Shelby until she had to back away from oversensitivity.

"God," Shelby said breathily when she arched her chest away from Santana's mouth.

Santana smirked, licking her lips. "Yes?" Her hands were back on Shelby's backside, nothing but a flimsy piece of fabric between her fingers and the skin Santana was waiting impatiently to explore.

"Funny," Shelby smiled as she bent to kiss Santana, unhooking and divesting her of her bra while doing so. She replaced the cups of the bra with her hands without hesitation, and Santana couldn't stifle her groan.

"Now who's God?" Shelby whispered, earning an airy laugh from Santana. Her hands moved to Santana's waist, undoing her jeans. Her fingers gripped the waistband and she urged Santana backwards with her kiss. "Move back."

Santana worked her way up the bed, twisting her hips a little to let Shelby pull her jeans off as she went. She stopped when Shelby caught one of her ankles, lifting first one foot and then the other to slip off her socks, dropping them somewhere on the floor. Santana didn't care if she ever wore socks again, if only Shelby would join her in bed.

A few seconds later, she was doing just that, but tantalizingly slowly. A right hand, then a left. A right knee, and the left. Crawling closer until she glided into Santana's arms, nearly nude bodies in contact for the first time. Santana squeezed Shelby's hips between her thighs and pulled her face close for a rough kiss.

She needed Shelby, and she needed her now. She was done with foreplay, done with teasing. She reached between them, the thin fabric of Shelby's panties proving easy to move aside. She felt heat and wetness, and Shelby moaned against their kiss.

She found what she wanted in a matter of seconds – the spot that made Shelby forget to breathe, forget to be quiet. She teased the swollen bundle of nerves, making Shelby's hips rock against her, driving the back of her hand against her own body in a dangerously pleasurable game of cat and mouse.

Not happy with her lack of control, pinned beneath Shelby as she was, Santana rolled them over, Shelby letting out a grunt of surprise when her back hit the mattress and a whimper of disappointment when Santana took her hand away.

"Getting rid of these," Santana said, yanking Shelby's useless panties down her legs. She ran her hands back up them, slowing as she moved higher, absorbing the moment. She could see how turned on Shelby was, had felt it. "I want to taste you."

Shelby's moan was broken, high-pitched, desperate. She rolled her hips. "Santana, please."

"I told you begging me would be sexy." Santana shifted until she'd settled between Shelby's legs, slipping her arms under them, her fingertips moving gently over Shelby's abdomen.

"Please," Shelby repeated, lifting her head long enough to make eye contact before dropping back to the pillow.

Santana gave her what they both wanted. Shelby kept forgetting to be quiet, but the baby monitor remained blissfully silent. Santana kept her eyes on Shelby's face, having to work a little to hold her hips down so she could, actually, see her. She knew Shelby was close when she started biting the back of her own hand, struggling so hard. It was beautifully sexy, but a little cruel nonetheless. Santana replaced her mouth with her hand and moved up over Shelby, plunging her tongue into her mouth to muffle her cries as she quickly brought her the rest of the way.

"Mmm," Shelby managed, gently pulling Santana's hair to break their kiss so she could breathe.

Santana smiled, taking pride in Shelby's obvious state of contentment. "Mmm?"

"Mhmm." Shelby took a deep breath and stretched, pursing her lips in a silent request for a kiss, to which Santana eagerly obliged.

It happened so quickly, Santana didn't even know how it had happened, but suddenly she was on her back, looking up at Shelby instead of down.

"My turn," was all Shelby said, but it was nearly enough to make Santana combust then and there.

Shelby was at her neck again, making her shiver. She felt hands, seemingly everywhere all at once – her face, down her arm, glancing across her breasts, her stomach, pressing between her legs, tugging at her panties until they were gone. Everywhere Shelby touched her, fire was left in her wake. Santana was sure she was going to set the linens ablaze, and then she didn't care if the building burned down, nothing but ecstasy flowing through her.

"Oh God," Santana moaned, once she was able, prying one eye open to look up at Shelby's smiling face.

"Yes?"

"Funny," Santana huffed, giving Shelby's shoulder a weak shove.

Shelby exaggerated the impact and tipped over to lie next to Santana, pulling the covers up to cover them both. "I thought so."

Santana felt Shelby seek out her hand and intertwine their fingers and Santana pulled their hands up to kiss the back of Shelby's. Silence began to settle over them. Santana felt herself drifting, and wondered if they needed to talk about it, or if she should excuse herself and start heading home.

But then she felt Shelby rustling around next to her, and a tug on her right arm until she had to turn onto her side. She felt Shelby scoot backwards until her warm body was against her. She pulled Santana's arm over her like a second blanket and fell still.

Santana stared at the back of Shelby's head, unsure what this meant, if anything.

"Don't overthink this," Shelby said sleepily, seemingly reading Santana's mind.

Santana pressed a kiss to Shelby's hair. "I won't."

She felt Shelby turn and kiss her arm. "Sleep. We can talk tomorrow."

Santana nodded and settled in behind Shelby, perfectly content for tonight, and anxious for tomorrow.


	2. Invincible, Part II

**A/N: Glad so many are enjoying this!**

* * *

><p>Santana woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed, her heart immediately racing. It was still dark, but not too dark to recognize that wherever she was wasn't familiar. Her brain was sluggish to process her surroundings. When something moved beside her, she jumped.<p>

"Too early," someone mumbled. "Why're you awake?"

Santana felt a hand fumble its way through the sheets and up her arm, tugging her by her elbow to lie down again. She smiled, the pieces finally coming together for her fuzzy mind. Her heart didn't slow, however.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"S'okay. You all right? Felt you jump."

Santana let her head loll to the right, her eyes having adjusted enough to let her make out Shelby's sleepy face looking back at her.

"I'm fine." Santana reached out, unable to resist smoothing Shelby's disheveled hair. Bed head. _Sex hair._ Santana felt her stomach flip as the events from earlier in the night flashed through her memory. She smiled. "Got disoriented for a second is all."

"Mmm," Shelby responded through a stifled yawn. "Scary feeling."

Santana smiled. "Yeah."

"But you're here."

Santana pretended not to notice the way Shelby was walking her fingers across the bed toward her. "Uh huh."

"With me."

She pretended not to notice that those fingers were tiptoeing their way under the covers and down her chest. "With you."

"In my bed."

She pretended not to notice that those fingers were strolling across her stomach and that Shelby was inching herself closer. "Your bed." It was getting a little hard to breathe though.

"Naked."

It was pointless to try to pretend not to notice those fingers dancing lightly between her legs. Instead, she moaned into Shelby's kiss, threading her fingers through her hair to keep her close.

She didn't yet know what this was. Shelby had told her not to overthink it, that they would talk about it in the morning. Well, it was morning, but, at least at the moment, Shelby clearly had no intentions of talking. And Santana was perfectly fine with that.

For now.

It was bright when she woke up a second time – obviously late morning, if not early afternoon. A brief panic that she overslept and was late for school washed over her, but then she remembered: it was Saturday. She glanced to the right – Shelby was still there; she didn't know why she thought she wouldn't be. It was, after all, her home. And so she was there, still fast asleep on her stomach, one arm tucked the pillow, the other dangling over the side of the bed. The covers had slid down sometime in the night, leaving her back exposed and Santana took advantage of the moment to stare at the subtle definition of the muscles she knew were stronger than they were letting on right now. They'd proven themselves a few hours ago.

Santana didn't know what to do. She was content to stay like this, coveting this woman that, not twenty-four hours ago, was nothing more than a hesitant fantasy. She tried to push the what-ifs and now-whats from her mind, but they grew heavier.

"Are you just going to stare at me all day?"

Shelby's voice was so unexpected and clear it made Santana jump. "What?"

Shelby laughed and turned her head, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I know you've been awake for, like, 20 minutes."

Santana felt herself blushing and looked away. "Sorry. I didn't know you were awake."

"I don't mind," Shelby said teasingly, reaching across the bed to pinch Santana's hip. "I've been up for hours; Beth always wakes up around 5 and it's almost noon now. She went down for a nap a bit ago so I came back to bed."

"I didn't even hear you guys," Santana said, surprised that she slept through what was probably a morning of crying and playing. "You should have gotten me up, I could have helped."

"Nah, you obviously needed to sleep or you would have woken up on your own." Shelby crossed her arms, propping her head a little higher on the pillow. This was too comfortable, too perfect.

It gnawed at Santana's stomach until it growled.

"Breakfast," Shelby said with a grin. She rolled out of bed and pulled a T-shirt over her head that she picked up from the floor. She was already wearing a pair of blue Adidas track pants. "C'mon, get dressed," she said as she adjusted the waistband on her pants. "I'll cook. I never get to cook for people. At least, not for other adults. Other than me." She shook her head and laughed at herself. "You know what I mean. I'll be in the kitchen. How do you like your eggs?"

"Scrambled."

Santana moved on autopilot. She felt like she was in a dream – this was all too good, too much, too fast. There was even a matching pair of track pants (red, not blue) and white T-shirt laying in a folded stack on the floor by her feet, she saw when she sat up. Her back crackled as she stood and her hamstrings were tight when she bent to pick up the clothes, not unwelcome reminders of everything that had happened.

She shuffled into the adjoining bathroom and almost debated helping herself to a shower, until she remembered that Shelby was cooking. Instead, washed her face at the sink and stole from Shelby's bottle of Fresh Mint Listerine. As she swished, she finger combed the tangles out of her hair to pull it up into a ponytail. She had to spit out the mouthwash in surprise, though. Her breasts were peppered with tiny bruises, and there was a larger – but thankfully lighter – mark on her neck. She blushed hard and pulled on the borrowed clothes. Hickeys never made her blush before, but something about these made her blood rush.

Her stomach growled again, the smell of frying bacon drawing her to the kitchen. She paused in the bedroom's doorway, able to see Shelby at the stove, her back to Santana. She was singing to herself, quietly, but loud enough that Santana could identify it as a Katy Perry song. She chuckled and crossed the living room, noticing Shelby's purple sweater was still lying haphazardly across the coffee table, and leaned against the table.

"_As you shoot across the sky-y-y_," Santana chimed in, laughing as Shelby spun in surprise, tongs in hand.

"I didn't know you were listening!" Shelby said, eyes wide.

"So? Since when are you self-conscious about people hearing you sing?"

"It's different."

"Oh calm down," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "You're an amazing singer, don't act like you don't know it, or that you're embarrassed that I walked in on your little concert."

Shelby huffed and turned back to the stove, but Santana saw the twitch in her lips that told her she was suppressing a smile. Santana pulled out one of the chairs and sat, humming the melody until Shelby gave in and started singing again.

"_You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine. Just own the night like the Fourth of July."_

Santana jumped in again, this time earning a smile from Shelby. _ "Cuz baby you're a firework. Make 'em go oh, oh, oh, as you shoot across the sky."_

_This is so cheesy,_ was all Santana could think. _ Singing Katy Perry while Ms. C – Shelby – makes me eggs and bacon. Because I'm at her house. In the morning. Because I stayed the night. Because we slept together. Multiple times._

"Hey, why'd you stop?" Shelby said after noticing Santana had dropped out of their impromptu duet. She glanced over her shoulder as she took slices of bacon out of the frying pan and laid them on a plate of paper towels.

Santana shrugged. She hated this emotional roller coaster she was riding. One moment, she was giddy, the next, aroused, and the next, apprehensive, then terrified. She also hated how she was seemingly unable to hide her emotions behind anger with Shelby now, like she did with everyone else. She saw the jovial spirit in Shelby's eyes shift to concern, and her roller coaster sped toward apprehension.

"You know," Shelby said as she turned and walked toward Santana, and then moved behind her, resting her hands on her shoulders. "For someone who so plainly declared her intentions, you sure are being hard to read this morning."

Santana tilted her head and let her cheek rest on the back of Shelby's hand, grateful, for once, that she couldn't see her. "I don't know how to act with you now."

She felt Shelby's other hand playing with the ends of her ponytail, fingertips sometimes grazing the back of her neck. It was heavenly.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"I mean," Santana paused to take a breath. "I mean…now what?"

"Now what?"

"Yeah." Santana spun her chair so she could look at Shelby. "Now what? I don't know how to think or act because I don't know…I don't know what this is. Or was. You said we'd talk about it. I need to talk about it."

"So let's talk about it," Shelby said, settling into the chair next to Santana and turning so they could face each other.

Faced with inevitability, Santana plummeted toward terror. "I don't really know what to say…" she said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Then I'll start," Shelby offered calmly, though her clasped hands gave away her nerves. "Santana, you are an incredible girl – woman – and…"

Santana's back went rigid. That was as bad as '_It's not you, it's me.'_

"…I am…admittedly still a little in shock. This wasn't exactly something I had thought about happening. I was a tad caught off guard by your…confession. I'm not even sure why I allowed any of this to happen. I should have said, 'No,' because I'm your teacher, and I'm your coach, and I could get fired. And I'm old enough to be your mother."

The words stung Santana and she felt heat threatening behind her eyes, and she looked away. She could handle rejection; she couldn't handle an entire speech about it.

"But then I think that I'm not _really_ your teacher, and our choir season is over anyway. And no one will know…"

Shelby's hesitation made Santana look up. She shook her head quickly. "No, I'd never tell anyone."

Shelby smiled and put her hands over Santana's, lacing their fingers together. "And then I think about what you said, that I make you feel…invincible. And I realize that…well, somehow, you kinda make me feel the same way."

Santana squeezed Shelby's hands. "Really?"

"You must. Or I'd be a lot more hesitant about this."

Santana breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good to hear."

"Is it?" Shelby said with a smile.

"Yeah." Santana returned the smile.

"Good." Shelby lifted their hands so she could poke Santana's stomach with her index finger. "Your turn."

"I don't think I have anything to say. At least, that hasn't already been said."

Shelby poked her again. "Nothing?"

Shelby's apparent acceptance and lack of negativity was enough to start pulling Santana's confidence back to the surface. "I really like being with you."

"The feeling's mutual."

"I'd like to continue being with you."

"That feeling is also mutual. Anything else?"

"Well, maybe one more thing. But it's a secret."

"You can tell me," Shelby said with a whisper and a smile.

Santana leaned close enough to whisper in Shelby's ear. "I want to go down on you."

She felt Shelby's quick exhale against her neck. "You did."

"Again." She placed her hands on Shelby's knees and began sliding them up slowly. "Longer. Slower." She smiled – Shelby was nearly panting. "Until you beg me to stop."

A whimper escaped Shelby's lips and she felt them make contact with her neck in a wet kiss. Satisfied with the effect she had, Santana pulled back and hopped off the chair to help herself to breakfast. She turned, leaning against the handle on the oven, to see Shelby holding her hand to her forehead, cheeks flushed, and crunched into a piece of bacon.

"What?" Santana said, smiling. It was taking every ounce of willpower she had to not put Shelby on the kitchen table and do exactly what she had said.

"What you do to me…" Shelby said, voice drifting off for a moment. "I'm getting too old for this. Dish me up since you're over there."

Santana noticed Shelby's hand shook slightly as she took the plate she offered her. She loved driving people crazy with desire. She loved doing it to Shelby even more.

They ate in near silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, though, a sense of calm acceptance settling over them. They cleaned up the kitchen together, sometimes talking quietly, sometimes just letting their shoulders or hips touch while standing at the sink washing and drying dishes. Santana wondered if Shelby was still thinking about what she'd whispered in her ear.

The way Shelby's breath stuttered when Santana let her hand graze her backside as she stepped around her to hang the damp dishtowel on the oven handle to dry told her she was. Santana gripped the handle for a few moments, her spiking desire making her dizzy. "Now."

Shelby was behind her in a heartbeat, body pressed close, one arm around Santana's waist. "Thought you were going to leave me hanging all day."

Santana looked over her shoulder, Shelby's lips so inviting. "Never," she said before capturing them with her own. She indulged them both for a few long moments before ducking out of Shelby's embrace and walking toward the bedroom. She didn't look back, trusting Shelby would follow – she did – but instead of stopping at the bed, as Shelby clearly had anticipated, she turned to enter the bathroom, immediately pushing the shower curtain aside to turn on the faucet.

Somewhere behind her, she heard Shelby murmur, "Oh God."

Santana smirked and waited until the water was warm enough before pulling the stopper to divert the flow to the showerhead. She desperately wanted to grab Shelby and ravish her immediately, but there was something even more erotic about refusing to turn around and look at her, knowing she was waiting right behind her. Shelby apparently was playing the same game, since she was keeping her hands to herself.

Amused and aroused by it, Santana pulled the elastic band out of her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders before lifting the borrowed T-shirt over her head and pushing the blue track pants to her ankles. She kicked them off and stepped into the shower like she would any other day if she were home, and pulled the curtain closed behind her. She let the spray soak her hair, the pressure and warmth so wonderfully relaxing she nearly forgot why she was there until a blast of cold air hit her back. She turned to see Shelby standing opposite her in the tub, stripped of her clothes.

"Finally," Santana breathed, reaching out to grab Shelby's hands and pull her under the shower and into a kiss, feeling Shelby's skin warming under her touch. She waited until she simply couldn't any longer and pushed forward, making Shelby step back until her back was against the wall.

She broke from their kiss, both of them breathing hard, chests heaving. Santana took half a step back. She hadn't had much of an opportunity to really _see_ Shelby last night. It was too dark. But not now – now she could see her, see the way the droplets of water joined and followed one another in trails down her chest, her stomach, her legs. She looked up to make eye contact with Shelby, and Shelby's palms slapped against the walls – one to her side, the other at her back – bracing herself, knowing.

"Jesus," Santana said to herself as she lowered herself to her knees and let her forehead rest against Shelby's abdomen, hands sliding up the backs of her legs, pulling forward until she could slip her tongue between Shelby's thighs.

Shelby's reaction was immediate, groaning as she rolled her hips away from the wall toward Santana, trying to set the pace. Instead, Santana grabbed her hips and pushed them back, pinning her in place, keeping her at Santana's mercy. Santana teased her until she couldn't help herself, moaning from her own excitement as she dropped her shoulder under Shelby's thigh, giving her better access but forcing Shelby to work harder to stay upright, just one foot on the slippery floor.

She didn't seem to care, though. She leaned against her outstretched arm, her other hand alternating between supporting herself and holding the back of Santana's head. It wasn't more than a few minutes before Santana felt the telltale rush of heat just before Shelby moaned in ecstasy.

Santana kept her word. It wasn't until they heard crying on the baby monitor next to the bed they were now on that Shelby asked her, woefully, to stop.

"Sorry," Shelby breathed, rushing to get her clothes out of the bathroom, pulling them on as she walked. She stooped to kiss Santana, helping her back to her feet as she left.

Santana was left alone, wearing nothing but the bath towel Shelby had wrapped her in before Santana had pulled her into the bedroom and onto the bed. She heard Shelby shushing Beth in the next room, and felt compelled to take another, proper shower before venturing out to greet the toddler. She took the time to gather, fold, and stack yesterday's clothes – a sock was missing - and blow-dry her hair.

Beth was playing with a colorful talking stuffed dog on the couch next to Shelby, who looked up when Santana entered with her stack of clothes.

Shelby glanced at the clothes, then at Santana. "Going somewhere?"

"Thought I should maybe go home, give you some space."

At the mention of 'home,' Shelby's eyes went wide. "Oh my God, do your parents know you're okay?"

"I told them not to expect me home last night."

Shelby relaxed. "Confident you'd win me over."

"Or that I'd be hiding somewhere, humiliated by rejection."

"You don't need to leave. It's nice, having someone here. You can get to know Beth," she added with a smile.

Santana hesitated. Kids were never really her thing, but there was something about the way Shelby was looking at her that made her want to try. "Okay. But I should probably check in at home. I'm usually home by now when I sleep over." Santana put her clothes back in Shelby's room and went to find her purse and cell phone somewhere by the front door.

"Tell them you'll be home Monday after school. If they'll let you be gone that long."

"I'm checking in, not asking permission," Santana replied, her pulse already racing at the suggestive tone in Shelby's voice as sent her mother a simple text message that she was staying with a friend for the weekend. She didn't wait for a reply before joining the mother and daughter on the couch.


	3. Invincible, Part III

Santana had thought she knew what it was like to be completely relaxed and comfortable and happy. She was wrong. _This, _this was true domestic bliss. Cooking, cleaning, taking care of Beth, snuggling on the couch watching a movie and missing the ending because they were making out or asleep, napping when Beth napped, making love at night until physical exhaustion demanded rest.

It was only two days, but it was two of the most enjoyable two days of her life.

When Shelby set her alarm clock Sunday night before crawling into bed, Santana's mood fell. Tomorrow was Monday. Monday meant school, which meant they were going to have to pretend that none of this had happened. Shelby wouldn't be her history sub since Mr. Larson was due back, but she was subbing for a sophomore math class, and they had Trouble Tones rehearsal after school.

"It'll be fine," Shelby said, reading Santana's mind. Santana allowed herself to be kissed, deeply. "I promise." Their lovemaking was quiet, a controlled burn instead of the wildfire of the previous two nights.

The morning came too soon. Santana was alone in bed when the alarm went off, Shelby having risen at least an hour earlier with Beth's schedule. She fumbled with the unfamiliar clock, hoping she turned it off as opposed to just snoozing it, and rolled out of bed and into the shower. It wasn't until she was combing her hair that she realized she had nothing to wear to school that day. Sure, Shelby's weekend-wear worked fine in a pinch, but she couldn't go to school in workout clothes or Shelby's sophisticated wardrobe. Neither was her style. She also remembered that she'd left her car in the Lima Bean parking lot. She hoped it hadn't been towed. She moved quickly to dress in her temporarily loaned clothes and left her hair wet, pulling it into its usual high ponytail. Shelby was packing Beth's diaper bag when she rushed through the living room, tugging her boots on.

"Where's the fire?" Shelby asked, dumping a final scoop of powdered formula into a bottle that was going to day care.

"I don't have anything to wear. And my car is still at the Lima Bean. I hope."

"It's okay, I'll take you." Shelby moved more quickly, packing the day's snacks and accessories with practiced ease.

"I can't wear this," Santana gestured at the grey sweatpants she was wearing with her black designer boots. "And we can't show up at school together."

Shelby laughed. "To your car." She put on her coat and boots – she must change into those killer heels at school – and wrestled Beth into her little coat and hat and grabbed her keys and purse. Santana grabbed the diaper bag and her own purse and held the door for Shelby as she carried Beth out to her SUV parked in the adjacent garage.

Santana was stressed. She hated being late on accident. Being late by choice, to make an entrance, that was a whole other matter. Being late because she planned poorly was a personal embarrassment. She felt herself calm a bit when Shelby leaned across the console between them to bring their lips together.

"While we still can," Shelby said when she sat back and started the engine. Santana exhaled, feeling a bit shaken by the adrenaline of rushing around and the reality that they were about to begin playing a very dangerous game of shadows. "It'll be all right," Shelby said reassuringly, reaching over and finding Santana's hand to hold as they drove the few blocks to the coffee shop where they had had their study session Friday evening. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Santana breathed a sigh of relief when her black BMW was still sitting in the parking lot. She hopped out of Shelby's vehicle hastily, needing to rush home to change and get to school on time, and needing to avoid the urge to kiss her goodbye.

"See you at rehearsal," Shelby called before Santana slammed the door. Santana smiled and waved from her own car before speeding back to Lima Heights Adjacent.

* * *

><p>School wasn't as difficult as Santana had feared. She only saw Shelby in the halls once between classes, and she managed a casual greeting as they passed. She even enjoyed her American History class. She missed Shelby being the class's substitute, but found that she had retained everything they had covered at the Lima Bean Friday night. Her hand was first to go up every time Mr. Larson asked a question. She loved being right.<p>

The true test came after school. She waited in the Trouble Tones rehearsal room with Mercedes, Brittany, Sugar, and the rest of the girls making small talk about their weekends – Santana said she and her parents had gone to Columbus – and grumbling about their second place finish at Sectionals. When she heard Shelby's heels clicking down the hallway toward their room, her heart raced.

"Hi, girls," Ms. Corcoran said as she entered, a stack of sheet music and songbooks in her arm. "I know we're all bummed out about Sectionals, but that doesn't mean we give up working toward perfection – for ourselves, not for Tickles the Clown."

She spread out the music selections across the top of the piano so the girls could see the titles: all songs from the big Broadway musicals – _Phantom of the Opera, Les Misérables, Hair, A Chorus Line, Cabaret, Evita, Annie, Chicago, Gypsy._

"I want each of you to pick your favorite song from your favorite show. For three weeks you will work on it with me and on your own, and perform it in front of the rest of the group. Your peers will score your performance, and you will write me a 500-word essay on your performance and experience in the Trouble Tones."

"We have to write something?" Brittany asked, looking worried.

"Yeah Ms. C. I didn't join the Trouble Tones to be judged by my peers and write papers. I get that we lost, but our season's over. Why are we being punished?"

"This isn't a punishment, Mercedes. Our season may be over, but your lives are just beginning. We spend our entire lives being judged by our peers. Most of you will be going off to college next year, entering the workforce. That's _real_ competition. Solo competition. It's a rarity that someone has your back. Most people are waiting for your failure so they can capitalize upon it."

"I'm not worried," Sugar chirped, unfazed as always, _Annie_ already in her hands. "I'm destined for success, my daddy always says."

Santana chimed in, trying to maintain her usual confident, domineering demeanor. "So when I win, what's the prize?"

Shelby smiled, her left eye twitching in what Santana wondered was meant to be a wink. "That remains to be seen."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Santana," Mercedes chided, reaching for the _Hair_ songbook.

They weren't to let anyone hear or see their performance until competition, which meant they each signed up for a twice-weekly private after-school rehearsal time. Santana grabbed the signup sheet and claimed the first spot for her own before anyone else could. 2:30 to 3:00 Tuesday and Thursday was hers.

The rest of rehearsal was spent photocopying sheet music and discussing their songs with Ms. Corcoran, with some girls kicking around performance ideas with one another, others being highly secretive.

"Santana?"

Santana looked up from the _Chicago_ songbook in her lap at Shelby waiting in the doorway.

"Have your song picked out?"

Santana held up the music book, not keen on announcing her choice in front of the rest of the group.

"Let's go get your copies made." Shelby smiled and waited for Santana to join her before turning and walking toward the teacher's lounge where the big school photocopier was kept.

"Hi," Santana said after a few steps.

"Hi," Shelby replied, glancing down at Santana. She was a couple inches taller now that she was in heels. "What did you decide?"

It was difficult to walk down the empty hallway side-by-side with Shelby and not reach out to link their hands, or arms, or lips; she made sure to keep a safe distance between them. She opened the songbook, holding it so Shelby could see the title.

"'All That Jazz'? I should have guessed."

"A sultry jazz number? Please. I got this."

Shelby chuckled and held the door marked TEACHERS' LOUNGE open for Santana. "I'm sure you do."

When Shelby closed the door behind them, Santana resisted the urge to flip the lock and push Shelby up against it. Instead, she followed her to the photocopier and gave Shelby the book to let her copy the proper pages.

"Any ideas for your performance yet?" Shelby asked, noticeably avoiding eye contact.

"I'll probably just recreate Catherine Zeta-Jones' from the movie. That was sexy."

"Not putting any originality into it?"

"I didn't say that," Santana retorted, almost letting herself get defensive. "I just haven't gotten that far yet."

"I can help you come up with some ideas. What time did you sign up for?"

"Tuesday/Thursday at 2:30."

"Eager to get started," Shelby said as she flipped the songbook to copy another page.

"Eager to see you," Santana said quietly, daring to reach out and let her hand rest on Shelby's lower back for a moment.

Shelby's eyes fluttered and closed. She took a breath. "We need to be careful."

Santana took her hand away, but she understood. "I know. We're doing okay so far, right?"

"Yes," Shelby said after wetting her lips. She wore a bright smile when she turned to face Santana and pulled the stack of warm photocopies off the tray. "All done." She seemed to hesitate before striding for the door to walk back to the rehearsal room, Santana by her side.

"Mercedes?" Shelby called when she stopped at the doorway, letting Santana walk past her. "See you tomorrow, Santana."

Santana hesitated before gathering her things. She had anticipated waiting for Shelby to be finished with the girls and maybe taking her to dinner, or at least visiting her later in the evening; certainly she hadn't expected, 'See you tomorrow.' She wiped the look of disappointment off her face before turning with a smile.

"Sure, Ms. C."

* * *

><p>'Tomorrow' couldn't come soon enough, as far as Santana was concerned. She knew she was being overzealous, letting her feelings dangerously overflow. She didn't want to be here, in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She wanted to be in Shelby's bed, staring up at Shelby. She had to stop herself from giving in to the thoughts swirling through her mind and forced herself to sleep – tomorrow would be better if she didn't give in, alone, tonight.<p>

Santana didn't see Shelby in the halls at all the next day. It seemed to be one of those rare days when all of McKinley High's teachers were present.

When the bell rang at 2:30, Santana felt heat rush over her. Rehearsal was what was scheduled, but there would be no rehearsing if she had her say. As she walked toward Shelby's room, she could hear her plucking out the opening beats of "All That Jazz" on the piano. Shelby was apparently anticipating a rehearsal. She looked up when Santana entered.

"Hi! How was your…"

Santana closed the door behind her, immediately locking it. She turned and pulled the shade over its window without saying a word.

"…day. Um, Santana…?"

Santana ignored the question and stalked forward. She knew what she wanted. She knew Shelby knew. She caught Shelby's chin in her hand and was kissing her before she had sat down astride the piano bench. Shelby whimpered and Santana pulled back.

"Shh."

"We can't do this here."

Santana reached for the buttons on Shelby's wine-colored silk blouse, undoing them quickly. "Yes we can."

"We agreed to be careful." Shelby wasn't stopping her, just protesting. Weakly.

"And we will be." She pulled the cover down over the piano's keyboard and brought their mouths back together before her hands slid inside Shelby's loosened shirt, moving over her breasts. She'd missed their soft curves.

She felt Shelby sigh, and then her cool hands resting on her knees. She could feel her fingers twitching with desire.

"Touch me," she breathed against Shelby's lips. "Please." She took her hands from Shelby's breasts to unbutton her own jeans – she should have planned her wardrobe better, she realized, but it was too late now.

Shelby wasn't hesitating anymore. She pushed her tongue into Santana's mouth as she pushed her hand down the front of her jeans. Santana exhaled hard, remembering not to moan. She reached for Shelby, but the angle was awkward, and Shelby's arm was in the way.

"I can't reach you," she whispered between kisses.

Shelby stood, pulling Santana with her, and moved to mirror the way Santana was straddling the bench, but her skirt stopped her.

"Why do you always wear these tight skirts?" Santana asked as she reached for the hem. "You drive me fucking crazy with them."

Shelby quirked a smile. "Language. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Just you," Santana said as she pushed Shelby's pencil skirt up until they could sit down again. She accidentally groaned when Shelby anticipated the move and slid her fingers firmly home when she sat.

"Shh," Shelby reminded before kissing her and pulling Santana's hand between her legs.

Santana couldn't believe they were actually doing this. It was beyond erotic. They kissed until it was too difficult, settling for breathing against each other's mouths.

When Shelby's hand accidentally hit the piano, Shelby froze, and then smiled when she understood why Santana had pulled the cover over the keys. The piano remained blissfully silent. She kissed Santana with renewed energy and used her grip on the piano for leverage.

Shelby's tongue back in her mouth was enough to do it for Santana. She whimpered, and breathed hard, and squeezed Shelby's thigh with her free hand, hoping that was enough communication.

"Me, too," Shelby whispered before covering Santana's mouth with her own again.

Santana grabbed the back of Shelby's neck, holding onto her for dear life as they climaxed together. They kissed until their bodies began to calm, until Santana felt like she was going to suffocate from the heat. She broke away with a gasp and let her head drop to Shelby's shoulder. She pressed a wet kiss to her neck and breathed on it, seeing goosebumps rise. She felt Shelby's arm wrap around her back, pulling her closer.

"I can't believe we just did that," Shelby said quietly, still a bit winded, her chin resting on Santana's shoulder.

"Me neither," Santana breathed. She felt Shelby playing with her hair and closed her eyes.

"You planned it."

"Maybe," Santana replied, pressing another kiss to Shelby's neck. She couldn't see the clock from her angle, and she hated to ask, but knew she had to. "What time is it?"

Shelby snorted a laugh, and Santana lifted her head and sat back. "What?"

"Not even 2:40."

"Shit," Santana said with a laugh, and then covered her mouth, her eyes smiling at the look of mock scolding Shelby was giving her. "Shoot. That was fast."

Shelby placed a soft kiss on her lips and wiggled her hand out of Santana's jeans. "That was hot."

Santana grinned and reclaimed her own hand. "So hot."

Shelby brushed the back of her hand against Santana's face and stood, shuffling backwards a bit awkwardly until she was away from the piano bench and rolled her skirt back down her thighs. "Bathroom. Then let's try to get some actual rehearsal in."

Santana stood and buttoned her jeans, starting to follow Shelby.

"Uh uh," Shelby said, stopping. "I'm going to the teachers' lounge. I'll meet you back here in a few minutes." She peered around the shade as casually as she could and, seemingly satisfied, unlocked the door, opened it, and walked away.

Santana rushed toward the girls' restroom, resisting the urge to skip.

Shelby was at the piano again by the time she returned, playing through her chosen song. She glanced up when Santana entered and smiled, nodding for her to close the door. Santana left it unlocked this time, though.

"Are you ready?" Shelby asked, not pausing her playing. She shifted her eyes to the sheet music waiting on the back of the piano, winding the melody back to the intro.

"Sure," Santana smiled, glancing at the lyrics briefly.

"I'm not wearing underwear," Shelby said as casually as she'd greeted her.

Santana gaped.

"They were wet." Shelby was still playing the song's introduction on repeat, as though she were discussing syncopated rhythm and not her lack of underwear.

"Um, where…are they?" Santana stuttered. Not that it mattered. She wanted to lock that door again and make her scream.

"I don't remember. Maybe they'll show up somewhere. Ready?" She played the introduction one more time, louder, prompting Santana to come in.

"_Come on, babe, why don't we paint the town – and all that jazz,_" Santana sang. "_I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down –"_

"Good. Now, sultry," Shelby said quickly.

It wasn't difficult, given the way her hormones were racing. _ "– and all that jazz. Start the car, I know a whoopee spot where the gin is cold but the piano's hot."_

Twenty minutes later, Santana had gotten herself fully under control and was enjoying working through the song with Shelby. They were chatting about potential choreography when Sugar knocked on the door and walked in without a response.

"Hey Ms. Corcoran. Wow, Santana, you sounded amazing. I know we aren't supposed to listen in, but I couldn't help it. By the way, Ms. Corcoran, my dad sent this paper with me, he said to give it to you to sign and bring it home with me."

"Sure," Shelby replied. "Santana, do you have a pen in your bag?"

"Yeah," Santana shifted her backpack around so she could dig through the zippered front pocket, freezing when she unzipped it. She glanced up to see Shelby waiting patiently, hand outstretched, eyebrow quirked teasingly.

"Find anything?"

"Yeah, I did," Santana said, clearing her throat as she stuffed the lavender-colored panties into a corner of her bag to find a pen to lend to Shelby. "Here."

"Thank you," Shelby said as she signed Sugar's document and gave it back. "See you Thursday."

"Bye," Santana managed, images flooding her mind of Shelby straddling the piano bench, of Shelby and her tight skirts, of Shelby wearing nothing beneath her skirt right now. She let her bag swing back and pushed passed Sugar, needing to get some fresh air.


	4. Invincible, Part IV

**A/N: Smutty smut smut. And also, plot. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Thursday's rehearsal began no different than Tuesday's, except that Shelby was the one to lock the door and pull the shade. That, and Santana had brought a blanket in her backpack to put on the floor.<p>

"We need to stop doing this at school," Shelby said quietly as they caught their breath.

"Then let me come over," Santana replied, running her hands over Shelby's partially disrobed body, lying both on top of and next to her.

"I didn't mean to be keeping you away; I've just had some projects I needed to try to focus on. I'm sorry." She played with the pleats in Santana's red and white Cheerios skirt. "You're a cheerleader."

"I'm a cheerleader, yes," Santana replied. This wasn't new information.

"Why are cheerleaders so sexy?"

Santana smiled and wondered if they would rehearse at all today when Shelby's hands moved under the skirt to hold her backside, pulling her closer.

"Because we know how to get people excited." She felt Shelby roll her hips against her thigh, eyes falling closed. "We know how to scream."

"Shh," Shelby exhaled rolling her hips against Santana again.

Santana's heart raced. This was getting ridiculous. "We tell you what to do."

Shelby bit her lip. "Tell me."

"Gimme an S," Santana said, amused by Shelby being lost in the moment.

"S," she repeated.

"Gimme a T."

"T."

"Gimme an…O," Santana smiled, and Shelby laughed, not completely gone.

"I just did."

"Gimme a P."

"P."

"What's that spell?"

"Stop. Wait, what?" Shelby opened her eyes, bewilderment on her face.

"It's gotta be almost 3:00. We need to stop."

Shelby mumbled her disapproval, but nodded. Santana wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tight.

"Plus, this floor is killing me."

Painful as it was, she managed to get up and help Shelby back to her feet. They redressed quickly and stuffed the blanket into Santana's backpack. Noting the time, Shelby took her place at the piano, Santana alongside, and they picked up "All That Jazz" as though they'd been playing it for the last twenty minutes.

At 3:00, the anticipated knock came, but the door rattled against the deadbolt when Sugar tried to open it. Santana rushed over and unlocked it, opening the door for her. "Hey, sorry."

"Why's it locked?" Sugar asked, oblivious.

"So you wouldn't barge into my rehearsal like last time," Santana said pointedly.

Sugar only shrugged. "My turn."

"Bye, Ms. Corcoran," Santana said, twisting her hips a little to make her cheer skirt move.

She saw Shelby's eyes snap from her skirt to her face, and then smile. "See you later, Santana."

She didn't hear from Shelby that night as she had hoped. She had to argue with herself about texting her, but she knew she needed to be patient.

After school on Friday, she took the longer route to the parking lot, the one that would take her past Shelby's choir room. The door was closed but the shade was up – she saw (and heard) Mercedes singing, Shelby accompanying her at the piano as usual. She hesitated at the door, moving a little until she caught Shelby's eye. Santana smiled and raised her eyebrows in silent inquiry. _Tonight?_

Shelby nodded and returned her attention to Mercedes.

Satisfied, Santana went home and packed.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, while she was lying on her stomach in bed reading her American History textbook – she found she had a bit of a passion for it now – her phone chimed. She smiled knowingly and closed the book.<p>

"_I'm waiting."_

Santana was already on her way out the door. _"Not for long."_

"_Hurry."_

"_Don't start without me."_

She nearly swerved off the road when she checked the reply that came a few minutes later. _"No promises."_

When she pulled up to Shelby's condo, she noticed her SUV was parked on the street and her garage open, empty. Unsure, she reversed and pulled into the garage, bringing her weekend duffle bag with her as she climbed the stairs. She couldn't help but wonder just how serious Shelby was being with her texts. She could barely process the concept of walking in on Shelby…

She knocked, and Shelby answered disappointingly quickly.

She quit being disappointed when Shelby pulled her inside and immediately pressed her back against the door to kiss her until Santana was breathless.

"Hi, baby," Shelby said when she was satisfied with their kiss. She took Santana's bag and put it over her own shoulder. "I've been waiting to do that all day."

That was new. "Baby?"

"Oh no," Shelby said, full of concern. "It just came out. I'm sorry."

Santana felt the word sink in. It made her blush. It made her giddy. "It's okay. I like it. I was just surprised."

"Are you sure?"

Santana nodded. "More than sure. Hey I parked in the garage, I wasn't sure if that's why you were parked on the street? I can go trade our cars for you if you want."

"No, I did that on purpose." Shelby pushed a button on the intercom by her door, closing the garage door. "I didn't want one of the other girls happening by and seeing your car here. I don't want them thinking I'm giving you special treatment."

"No, no special treatment at all," Santana said, laughing.

Shelby grinned. "Okay. Come on. I've been waiting for you." Shelby took her hand and led Santana through the living room into her bedroom where she dropped Santana's bag on what had become her side of the bed last weekend.

Santana reached to pull her close when she stopped and turned, but Shelby sidestepped her, leading her back out to the living room where she promptly sat down on the couch, bringing Santana with her.

"What…"

"I've been wanting to watch this with you all week." Shelby pointed the remote at her television and turned it on, followed by the DVD player. A few seconds later, the menu screen for _Chicago_ came up.

"We're…watching a movie?" Santana tried to hide her disappointment. She really was just glad to be spending time with Shelby outside the oppressive walls of school, but she would have preferred spending it another way. Preferably horizontally. In a comfortable bed.

Shelby curled up on the couch, using Santana's lap as a pillow. It was all Santana could do to refrain from sighing in exasperation and instead lay her arm across Shelby's to link their fingers.

"I want you to start thinking more about your performance. It's two weeks away."

"I'm not really worried about it, but if this is what you want to do…"

"It is," Shelby replied, kissing the back of Santana's hand.

"What happened to that whole 'cheerleaders telling you what to do' thing from yesterday?"

"Later. Shh."

Santana just shook her head and settled in to watch the movie, trying to ignore the aching desire in her belly.

She had to admit that she really did like the movie – she always had, and it was nice to have a refresher viewing. She found herself taking all kinds of mental performance notes: things she could do with her voice, with her choreography, with her acting. In fact, she was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't notice that Shelby and turned her back on the TV and had lifted up Santana's shirt to place kisses along her belly at the waistband of her jeans. She didn't notice it until Shelby unzipped them and said her name.

Santana glanced down at her name, and then everything registered. "Oh," she said quietly.

"Hi," Shelby said as she slid her hand under Santana's shirt, first to her breast, then behind her to unhook her bra, then back to her breast.

Her heart pounded. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it off, followed by her bra. She didn't need to be asked twice, or even once.

Shelby smiled and turned onto her stomach, tugging awkwardly at Santana's jeans. "Take these off."

Santana lifted her hips and pushed her jeans down and kicked them off. She realized that she was completely naked, sitting on the couch, with Shelby tantalizingly close. She squeezed her legs together, desire rushing over her.

"No, no, don't do that," Shelby said pulling Santana's right knee toward her. She dropped her head and kissed the top of her thigh, inching her way higher. When she grazed her fingers between her legs, Santana moaned – grateful for her touch and grateful that she didn't have to be completely silent. She closed her eyes and dropped her head to the back of the couch. She didn't care what Shelby did. She didn't need to see her. She just needed her to not stop.

She felt Shelby's lips travel over the sensitive line between her thigh and hip, and then a tongue dart against her. She moaned again and felt Shelby slide off the couch and move to kneel on the floor - her hair was soft against her thighs, breath warm against her wetness, tongue hot against her desire.

As much as they had made love – at least a dozen times in a week – Shelby had never done this. Santana had craved it, ached for it even, but never asked. It was worth the anticipation.

She was gentle, but anything but hesitant, driving Santana crazy, working her up so slowly. She let her hand rest on Shelby's head, resisting the urge to pull her closer.

Just when she thought she was going to lose her mind with desire, she felt her legs lift slightly and come to rest over Shelby's shoulders. She felt hands on her waist, and then she was jerked closer, suddenly feeling like she was being consumed.

"Fuck," Santana groaned. She pushed herself against Shelby and heard – and felt – a muffled response. It only turned her on more, and she quit holding back, rocking her hips quickly.

Her moans were coming fast, and it was all she could do to keep them at a volume she hoped wouldn't wake a sleeping baby. It was made all the more difficult that Shelby was moaning, too, and she had noticed that Shelby was only holding onto her with one hand now. She could imagine what was happening, but she wanted to know.

"Are you touching yourself?" she asked, tangling her fingers in Shelby's hair.

Shelby moaned.

"Are you?"

She felt warm breath against her, briefly, before the tongue was back. "Yes."

"Oh God," Santana groaned. She'd never been so turned on in her life and it brought on her climax immediately. It was strong and made her want to curl up and cry from pleasure.

When she could think again, she heard Shelby, still breathing hard and felt her shoulder still moving under her knee in that telling rhythm. She put her feet back on the ground and sat up a little, reaching for Shelby's arms to pull her up.

"Come up here." She finally opened her eyes as Shelby climbed onto the couch to straddle her lap. Somehow, at some point, Shelby had undressed. She hadn't even noticed. She didn't care; only one thing mattered now – Shelby. She ran her hands over Shelby's bare legs, feeling wetness on her thighs. Shelby was really turned on, and had been for some time it seemed. She let her hand graze between her legs and then rest her hands on the backs of her thighs.

Shelby's eyes were crazed, almost glassy with desire. She moaned at Santana's touch and pressed herself against her hand, whimpering when she took it away.

"Touch yourself for me."

Shelby started to shake her head, but Santana ran her hand between her legs again.

"Please?"

"Santana…" She could tell Shelby wanted to, was fighting the urge. Her hips were already moving in rhythm.

"Remember what I said about cheerleaders telling you what to do?"

Shelby sighed and dragged her nails up her own thighs.

"Touch yourself."

She did. With a moan she sank lower into Santana's lap, one hand between her own legs, the other on Santana's shoulder. Her head was thrown back in seconds, earlier hesitation forgotten to pleasure.

Santana sat back – as much as she could in their position – and watched. She couldn't believe this, couldn't believe how much they turned each other on, how Shelby seemed to like to be told what to do. It was all so damn hot that Santana knew she was going to have to do exactly what Shelby was doing, or beg Shelby to do it for her, when this was finished. There was no way she could sleep without finding relief after this. She watched, trying to focus enough to learn exactly how Shelby liked to be touched, but it was near impossible.

Santana moved her hands to Shelby's waist, helping to keep her from falling backwards, as she seemed about to do. Shelby lifted her head and sought out Santana's eyes.

"Please."

"Please?" Santana asked, bewildered.

"Let me," Shelby said, her voice pleading. "Please."

"You've been waiting for me to give you permission?" Santana was incredulous. She didn't think Shelby had taken her so seriously.

"Please, Santana. Please."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." Santana covered Shelby's hand with her own. "Do it, let go for me."

Shelby's reaction was instant, and loud. She fell forward, her body pulsing against Santana's. She was loud – too loud – and Santana heard Beth start crying. She heard Shelby's sob a moment later, and arms wrap tight around her neck. Perplexed, Santana wrapped hers around Shelby's waist, holding her as she cried.

"I'm sorry," Shelby said after a few seconds. "I…that was just…really powerful," she said with a laugh, sitting back to push tears off her face. "And I had to go and wake up the baby."

"It's okay," Santana said, unsure of what else there was to say. She stroked Shelby's back and Shelby brought their mouths together, kissing her slowly.

"I better go check on her."

Santana nodded, struggling to keep her renewed arousal under control. Shelby climbed off her lap and slipped her T-shirt back on, disappearing into Beth's room after washing her hands at the kitchen sink.

Santana scrubbed at her face with her hands. They were so good together, so passionate – she hadn't expected that when she first hit on her at the Lima Bean a week ago. They'd sparked so fast; she hoped they wouldn't fizzle just as quickly.

Left alone, Santana noticed the TV was still on, the _Chicago _menu screen playing on loop. She found the remote on the floor and turned off the television. She distracted herself by gathering their scattered clothes and taking them to the bedroom – she dropped hers by her bag and Shelby's in the hamper in the closet before rifling through her bag to find her bathroom toiletries. She was excited to have her own toothbrush this weekend and not the stiff dentist-visit spare that Shelby had given her last time.

After washing up, Santana climbed into bed, still fighting a quiet battle with her lingering arousal. She was set on ignoring it and was almost asleep when the bed dipped behind her and an arm snaked around her waist. She felt lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"Sleepy already?"

Santana hummed, running her hand down Shelby's arm. "Not really."

"Then why are you all tucked in?"

Santana turned her head to look at Shelby out the corner of her eye. She was grinning. "Trying to ignore that I got turned on again watching you," she replied with a shrug.

"And my bed is really the best place to do that?"

Shelby had a point. Santana laughed and turned her head back, gently tugging on Shelby's hand to move it lower. She felt Shelby's arm flex and resist.

Santana whined and pulled again. "Don't make me beg."

"Oh, I think that's only fair. I've done my share of begging." Shelby was placing kisses along Santana's neck, but refusing to let her arm be moved.

"You think I'm not above begging?"

"Are you?"

Santana turned her head again, twisting her back a little to see Shelby properly. "No."

Shelby smiled and Santana pulled her into a kiss, moving her tongue over Shelby's without pausing and then pulled away, eyes heavy with desire.

"Please." Santana tried to push Shelby's hand down again.

"That's it?"

Santana whimpered. "Please touch me."

"Not very convincing."

"I need you." Santana felt Shelby's arm start to give way and moved to kiss her again, pausing before sealing their mouths together. "Inside me."

This time, Shelby let her push her hand all the way down into waiting heat.

Santana was wound so tightly that her release was immediate, and brief, but relieving just the same. After a few seconds, she turned onto her back so she could look up at Shelby – just the way she liked.

"What?" Shelby asked quietly.

"Nothing," Santana said. She felt like she might be strapping into that roller coaster again.

"Liar." Shelby brushed a lock of hair off Santana's forehead. "What are you thinking about?"

Santana hesitated, apprehensive. She relaxed a little when Shelby laid her hand over hers and smiled, no hint of concern on her face – just…peace.

"It's just…this is really…amazing, and –"

"It is," Shelby interrupted. "Sorry, go on."

"And I didn't really expect this. But that's ok," she added quickly, not wanting worry to invade Shelby's serene eyes. "It's just really…intense. And I feel like…all these feelings…and I don't know what to do…" Santana felt her eyes welling with tears and turned her head.

She heard shifting beside her and felt herself pulled close. "What kind of feelings?" Her voice was quiet, just above a whisper.

Santana shrugged and put her hand over Shelby's. "I don't know."

She knew what she thought she felt, but it was too soon. This was too complicated already; she didn't need feelings getting all tangled up with whatever was happening between them.

"Well," Shelby said, moving to kiss Santana's cheek. "When you know, I hope you'll tell me."

Santana nodded and closed her eyes, still not able to look at Shelby. Her wall was down, and she didn't know how quickly she could rebuild it.

"Are you ready for bed?"

Santana lifted and dropped her head on her pillow. "Already here."

Shelby squeezed her hand and rolled away, disappearing into the bathroom for a few minutes.

By the time she returned, Santana was fast asleep.


	5. Invincible, Part V

**A/N: The end is here! Hope you enjoyed the read, and thanks for the feedback!**

* * *

><p>The next week, they were able to commit themselves to truly being careful at school. Shelby wasn't subbing at all, so the only time they saw each other at McKinley was during Santana's rehearsals – and they actually spent the time rehearsing.<p>

Santana had been working on her performance after school at home, alone, as was the assignment, and she felt it was coming together nicely. So it came not without frustration when Shelby began offering constructive criticism at Thursday's rehearsal.

"What about waiting until the off beat to step-step-change?"

"I've been learning it this way for two weeks," Santana said, hands on her hips, slightly out of breath from dancing and singing.

"It will let you transition better – you'll gain a full beat instead of the half that you have right now."

"I know what I'm doing," Santana said, annoyed.

Shelby stood up from the piano and mirrored Santana's stance. "And I don't?" She eyed her challengingly.

Santana opened her mouth, ready with one of her usual biting retorts, but she saw the corner of Shelby's mouth twitch, resisting a smile. They both knew Shelby was right. She sighed and dropped her shoulders.

"Okay," she said with a nod, and proved Shelby right.

"Are you nervous about Friday?" Shelby asked as they lay in bed Saturday night.

"The competition?" Santana laughed. "Are you being serious right now? You know I got this in the bag."

"I admire your confidence…"

Santana smirked.

"But sometimes being over-confident leads to disappointment."

Santana frowned and pulled away from Shelby's embrace. "You think I'm going to lose? To who, that tone-deaf see-n-say? Or the diva that expects everything handed to her on a platter with Effie's face engraved on it? I'm sorry, I thought you've been in the same room during my rehearsals. Apparently I was mistaken."

"Don't pull that attitude on me," Shelby retorted, unfazed. "Your performance is amazing, Santana, but I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"You really think I'm going to lose!" Santana moved further away, almost ready to get out of bed altogether.

Shelby reached out and caught Santana's forearm, keeping her from backing up any more. "You're putting words in my mouth. This assignment is meant to be our version of a real-world exercise. If you walk into the office of a CEO some day for a job interview and you act like you are better than them on the basis of absolutely nothing, it will blow up in your face, honey."

"I'm not stupid. I wouldn't do that."

"You're doing it right now. You did it at Sectionals. I am just as guilty at being overconfident, but I know when failure may be an option."

"With Sugar and Mercedes I'm not basing it on 'absolutely nothing,' I know what they can and can't do. I know what I can do."

"And if your opinion is not the opinion of the rest of the girls, then you may lose."

Santana's hard grimace faltered, and she stopped her constant resistance against Shelby's grasp on her. "I'm not going to lose."

"I don't want you to."

Santana felt her stomach twist. "_Now_ I'm nervous."

"_Now_ you're ready."

"You're insane," Santana said, shaking her head as she let Shelby pull her back into their usual position for sleeping.

"Nerves are good, baby."

There was that word again. Santana's stomach twisted the other direction and her mouth went dry.

"And it's 'to whom.'"

* * *

><p>The week of the competition passed quickly. Between exams in Chemistry and Geometry and rehearsal, there was no time for boredom. She spent Wednesday night at Shelby's, and she noticed that her name had seemingly ceased to exist. She wasn't Santana; she was only "Baby," or "Honey," or "Sweetie," or, a couple times, "Sexy."<p>

When she was "Sexy," she forgot that Shelby wasn't "Baby."

It wasn't until they were washing up for bed, side by side in the bathroom, that Santana even remembered she had said it. It gave her butterflies.

When they climbed into bed, Santana turned to face Shelby, eyes working to adjust to the darkness.

"You called me 'Sexy.'"

Shelby smiled and let her hand rest on Santana's waist. "Well, you are."

Santana blushed and was glad it was probably too dark to be noticable. "I like when you call me those things."

Shelby moved her hand to Santana's cheek, and Santana knew she would feel the heat of her blush. "So do I, sweetie. Oh, that one wasn't even intentional."

Santana closed her eyes. She had the urge to cry, and fought it desperately. She knew. _Now_ she knew. She just didn't know what to do about it. She felt a kiss graze her lips.

"Go to sleep."

* * *

><p>Word had spread that the Trouble Tones were having an internal solo competition Friday afternoon. Mostly jocks and Cheerios filled a good portion of the April Rhodes Auditorium, there to either support or mock fellow members of their clique, but Rachel, Finn, Kurt, and Blaine had taken a spot in the corner, away from the sea of red and white jackets. Finn sat on the inside, a buffer between the audience and his girlfriend.<p>

Backstage, the girls were warming up. Shelby had helped Santana warm up after 6th period, and she sang quietly to herself instead of belting within earshot of her competitors. She hoped no one would question it – she didn't want to be disqualified. By Shelby. For Shelby helping her. She shook her head and looked up as Shelby entered – she made Santana's stomach flip with her tailored black slacks and short-sleeved white button-down, and as always, the black three-inch heels.

"All right, girls," Shelby said, loud enough to gain their attention. "You have all worked hard and I just want to commend you on your dedication. I know Sectionals was difficult to accept, and I'm proud of each and every one of you for pushing through it and committing to yourselves. I can't wait to see your final performances."

"So who's up first?" Sugar asked, doing pliés in the corner.

Shelby held up a jar and shook it, a dozen folded pieces of paper inside. "We'll see. Good luck!" With that, she turned and left.

"Great, more suspense," Mercedes said with a huff. "Why can't we just know?"

Santana just shrugged. It didn't surprise her that Shelby would want to keep them in limbo.

A few seconds later, they heard Shelby over the auditorium speakers, thanking everyone for coming to their impromptu competition and explaining the rules. The Trouble Tones would be scoring each performance on a scale from one to five, and Shelby would tally the scores. She would not be voting.

"Girls, come and take your seats."

A mixture of excitement and nerves, the group filed out from the wings and into the front row to play judge to one another. Shelby sat at the director's table set up a few rows back, a glass, pitcher of water, pen, paper, and the jar of names. She swirled the jar a few more times and offered it to a boy sitting to her left. He pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to her.

"Sugar Motta."

Sugar jumped up with a squeal, and then visibly calmed herself, walking up the stairs to take her place and begin her ear-cringing performance of "You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile" from _Annie._ Santana had to give the girl credit for her insane charisma, but her complete lack of vocal talent made it excruciating to sit through. She gave her a 3.

"Brittany S. Pierce."

Santana smiled at Brittany's definitively 70s dance leotard, belt, and legwarmers. She wasn't surprised that she chose something that would feature her dancing more than her singing. She may be naive, but Brittany wasn't stupid. She would always love that about her. She gave Brittany a 5 for _A Chorus Line_'s "Dance: Ten; Looks: Three." The boys in the audience gave her a standing ovation.

"Santana Lopez."

Santana had forgotten she was even part of the competition. She looked up, surprised, and then she remembered and the nerves set in. _You got this,_ she told herself as she set her scorecard under her seat and walked to the stage. She'd been wearing a black trench coat, having elected to use the audience to her advantage. When the spotlight hit her on the downbeat, she dropped it, leaving her in what little costume she needed: a tight corset, boy-cut panties, stockings, garter belts, and heels - all black. The boys in the audience erupted, but she only looked at Shelby, who was working on keeping her face neutral, though Santana could see the way she was looking at her. Her anticipated reaction had been the reason she had refused to show Shelby her costume.

It was worth it.

Santana understood what Shelby had meant by nerves being a good thing. It made her feel like she actually had something to lose, something she wanted to fight for instead of just expecting to win, which, she realized, was exactly what she had accused Mercedes of doing. She hated being proven wrong.

And so she performed her ass off.

The audience was still hooting and hollering after she took her bows and walked back to her seat, receiving hugs from a few of the other girls. She didn't let herself think about how they would score her and got refocused on the rest of the performances. Brittany remained the only person to earn a 5.

After the last performance, Shelby took the stage again, bringing the girls with her. Santana felt like they were in a Miss America pageant, waiting for the third runner-up to be announced. Sugar was even holding her hand.

"It goes without saying that you were all phenomenal," Shelby said after the auditorium quieted. "I'm proud of each and every one of you. You've really proven to me, and more importantly to yourselves, that you have the ability to drive yourself toward perfection. You are young women on the verge of excellence, and I want you all to hold on to the things we discussed in our rehearsals."

Santana felt herself swell with pride, but it wasn't her usual cocky arrogance – it was a deep, emotional pride that she had accomplished what she had.

"Enough with the sap, Ms. C," Mercedes said. "Announce the winner!" The rest of the girls chimed in agreement.

"Of course," Shelby said with a smile. "I collected your scorecards. The winner is written right here," Shelby added, holding up a folded sheet of paper. Everyone's eyes went right to the paper. Santana's stayed on Shelby's eyes. She already knew.

"I'll read it, Ms. Corcoran," Santana offered, stepping forward with her hand outstretched.

Shelby smiled at her and gave her the paper, stepping to the side.

Santana unfolded the paper and read it, taking a breath and smiling.

"Santana Lopez."

Most of the audience cheered. Several of them booed and yelled out "tits and ass!" in support of Brittany's performance. Santana saw the girls' eyes on her, most filled with some level of contempt. When it grew quiet again, she continued.

"Mercedes Jones."

Mercedes gasped and clapped, rushing forward to hug Santana. Santana continued quickly.

"Brittany Pierce. Sugar Motta." She read off the names of all twelve members of the Trouble Tones.

Confusion and silence in the air, Santana turned to Shelby. "You were never going to tell us our scores. Or choose a winner."

Shelby crossed her arms and nodded, smiling. "That's right. And does anyone know why?"

"Because it wasn't about winning. It was about believing in ourselves," Mercedes offered.

"And learning that we are capable of pushing ourselves to do things on our own, without relying on other people to win," Santana added. "And not going into a situation assuming we would win."

"Right. I'm proud of all of you girls. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."

The girls collectively agreed, some of them hugging, a few smiling through tears.

"Thank you everyone for coming!" Shelby shouted toward the audience. "Girls, have a nice weekend. Remember, I would like each of you to write me 500 words on what this experience meant for you. Please turn them in to me by Wednesday. I'll see you on Monday."

Santana chatted with the rest of the Trouble Tones, avoiding Shelby and lingering until everyone had dispersed. Shelby had been doing the same.

"Hi," Santana said after finally approaching her.

"Hi," Shelby replied, still wearing that dopey proud smile she always wore after her girls performed well. "You were amazing."

Santana smiled and looked down. Bashful. "Thank you."

"You knew what was on that paper before you opened it."

Santana looked up, meeting her eyes. "Yeah. I mean, I didn't know all along, but I figured it out when you were talking."

Shelby reached out, brushing Santana's cheek briefly. "I'm so proud of you, honey."

Santana leaned into the touch before it was gone. She wished they were somewhere other than center stage in the school auditorium. "Thank you. For opening my eyes. I didn't realize how much of a cocky bitch I could be."

Shelby laughed and then sighed. "Your confidence is an admirable quality, but it's one to be closely guarded. It will push you to do great things."

Santana started to say something, and shook her head. "Can we go somewhere less…public?"

"Sure. Get your things. Did you…pack?"

"Of course. Can I meet you at home?"

Shelby squeezed her hand briefly as she walked away. "See you in a few."

Santana's stomach was in knots as she drove to Shelby's. She glanced in her rear-view mirror at a stoplight and saw Shelby had caught up with her. She was singing along to the same song that was playing on the radio in Santana's car. It made her laugh and her nerves eased a bit.

A few minutes later, after the sitter had been dismissed, they sat together on the couch in silence. Neither of them had really said much since they got there, but it didn't feel awkward, though Santana's stomach was still doing flip-flops.

"I learned something else." Santana ventured, breaking the silence. "Wednesday night."

Shelby was idly playing with her fingers. "And what was that?"

"That I have to be prepared to fight for what I want. Figuratively. You made me see that I could lose it, that at any second one of the other girls could bring the house down. All I wanted was to hold on to it and not let it slip away because I hadn't cared enough. It's not enough get what you want. You have to want to keep it."

"Nothing should be taken for granted. Even predictable success."

"I got what I wanted."

Santana took a breath and felt Shelby's hand close around hers. "And I want to keep it."

Shelby squeezed her hand and Santana turned look at her. Meeting her eyes in that moment was more difficult than the three weeks of rehearsal.

"What is '_it_'?" Shelby asked quietly.

"You."

"Me?"

Santana took another breath and gripped Shelby's hand more tightly. "I love you." She held her breath, waiting for the unpredictable reaction.

Shelby smiled and whispered, "I know," before leaning in to kiss Santana softly.

Santana started to pull away, the fear of rejection starting to invade her psyche.

"I love you, too."

Four words snapped the spring inside Santana, and she nearly burst into tears. Instead, she threw her arms around Shelby's neck and pushed forward, kissing her as they moved until she was lying over Shelby. She kissed her playfully, joyfully until Shelby laughed.

"You said you knew," Santana said, playfully wriggling her hips as Shelby cradled her between her legs.

"I did."

"Since when?"

"Since you called me 'baby' when we were in bed."

Santana smiled. "That's when I knew, too. Does that mean you knew how you felt, when you started calling me that?"

Shelby was fiddling with one of the garter belts Santana was still wearing. "Mhmm."

"Does that mean I passed your assignment?" Santana felt the other garter belt come unhooked and fingers start inching down her stockings.

Shelby had lifted her head and was kissing down the side of her neck. "You haven't turned in your essay yet."

"About my experience throughout this assignment?"

"Uh huh."

She felt hands on her backside pulling her hips into a slow, rocking rhythm.

"Is it for the school or just you?"

"Just me."

Santana angled her head so she could kiss Shelby again, playing with her tongue until she drew a whimper out of her.

"I don't really like writing papers. Can't I give it to you…orally?"

Shelby pulled back and a look of disgusted amusement crossed over it before she laughed, quickly covering her mouth. "I'm sorry, you meant that to be sexy."

Santana was grinning. "Please, you know I'm better than that at talking dirty."

Shelby lifted an eyebrow. "Remember what I said about too much confidence."

"I do," Santana said, lowering herself to kiss Shelby's neck and start unbuttoning her white blouse. "That it will push me to do great things. Let's go to bed and prove you right."

As they walked to Shelby's room, Santana asked, "Are you really going to make me write that essay?"

"I can't show favoritism, you know that. Besides, I want to read what you've learned from me the last few weeks."

Santana smiled as she pulled Shelby's pants from her legs. "I'd rather show you."

**The End**


	6. Love in the Club

**A/N: This is a continuation of "Invincible," picking up a couple months later, post-graduation. Just felt like writing something. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"Honey, I'm home!"<p>

Santana turned, smiling, Beth propped on her hip. "Hi."

"Hi, sweetie," Shelby said, pressing a brief kiss to Santana's lips. "And hi, my little Smoochiepoo!" She gathered Beth in her arms, covering her in silly kisses until the toddler started giggling.

Santana smiled and leaned against the kitchen table, watching mother and daughter reunite.

"Everything go okay today?" Shelby asked, righting herself after tipping Beth upside down.

This was their daily routine. After graduation, Santana had moved out of her parents' house and into Shelby's condo. Shelby had found a new job, giving voice lessons and audition consultations full time – in Fort Wayne, Indiana. She hadn't been forced out of McKinley, but when Santana moved in, their relationship's origin as teacher/student could no longer remain a secret, and the judgment and gossip was enough to make Shelby seek employment elsewhere. It was hard to come by in Lima, and resulted in a ninety-minute – each way – commute, but she had made it work. It probably wouldn't have, but Santana was there.

And Santana was happy. Three days each week, Shelby would drop Beth at daycare on her way out of town so she could play with other children. Santana would pick her up in the afternoon and take care of dinner. The other two days, Beth stayed home with Santana. She had never thought herself maternal, but there was something that stirred inside her the first time Beth wobbled over to her at daycare, in a fit of tears over who-knows-what, wailing "'Tana!" repeatedly until she scooped her up and held her close. Santana had been doing an emergency pick-up for Shelby, who was running late. That night, Santana offered to really help.

"Besides," Santana had said as they sat at the kitchen table, Shelby trying her best to not let her financial stress show as she sorted bills. "I don't want to be a freeloader. I can help."

Between cutting the childcare expense and Santana picking up a part-time job as a receptionist at a law firm on the daycare days to help with groceries and utilities, Shelby's stress level had fallen considerably, and they were both happier. Shelby felt supported and Santana felt useful. They had found their roles.

"Yeah, we had fun," Santana replied, answering Shelby's question. "We finger painted. Beth made this for you." She handed Shelby a piece of waxed paper, covered in nonsensical smears of multicolored paint. Written along the bottom, obviously by Santana, was 'I LOVE YOU, MAMA,' with a backwards E.

"Aw, I love it, thank you, Smoochiepoo!" She nuzzled Beth, who wiggled to be put down.

Santana smiled and handed her another sheet of waxed paper. "And I made this for you." Santana's finger painting featured a bright red heart with an arrow through it. Hers also had, "I love you, mama" across the bottom, followed by a series of X's and O's.

Shelby stooped to set Beth down to run off and slid her arms around Santana's waist. "I love you, too."

Santana felt herself be kissed in _that _way. Shelby had several different kisses; she'd categorized eight so far. This was number four – the one that sent electricity all the way to Santana's toes and made her feel absolutely possessed. It was her favorite of the eight.

"Did she nap today?" Shelby asked when she finally pulled away.

Santana nodded, detangling her fingers from Shelby's hair. "Three hours."

Shelby laughed, breathless. "Damn. She's going to be up late."

"We can be patient," Santana said, brushing her lips over Shelby's once more before backing out of their embrace to see what Beth had assuredly gotten into; it was far too quiet.

* * *

><p>Saturday night was date night. Well, they hadn't been together long enough to formally declare it as such, but more often than not, they would find a babysitter and go out for a quiet dinner together, or catch a movie. Sitters had been hard to secure this weekend – it was 4th of July weekend. Puck was already at the lake with his friends and the other girls they had come to depend on had plans, too.<p>

"We can stay in, get Chinese delivered. It's fine," Shelby said, resigning to the inevitable.

Santana rapped her fingernails on her knee, debating. She really wanted to get out of the house. She loved taking care of Beth, but everyone needs a little break now and then. And she was dying to get Shelby into a club and onto a dance floor. It had been a long week for Shelby, between catching the wrath of a stage mom who blamed her for her daughter not getting booked after the audition Shelby helped prep her for and getting a flat tire on the freeway on her way home. She knew she needed to let off some steam.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course," Shelby answered. "Why?"

"I'll find us a sitter." And with that, Santana pulled up a contact on her phone she had doubted she would ever use again.

* * *

><p>"Is this going to be weird? I feel like this is weird." Shelby was rushing around the bedroom, changing out of her comfy sweats and into a black halter-top dress with a flowing, pleated skirt. Her makeup and hair were already done.<p>

Santana glanced in the mirror at Shelby stripping and dressing behind her, gliding a lip gloss wand over her lips – red to match her curve-hugging dress. "She said she's been dying to spend some time with Beth and get to know her. I don't see anything wrong with that."

"But with everything that happened?" Shelby balanced with a hand on the dresser as she stepped into a pair of black heels. They were Santana's favorite pair. "And you're classmates."

"_Were_. We_ were_ classmates."

"I thought with the way things ended, she wouldn't want –"

"Look," Santana interrupted. "I called, I asked, she agreed. Eagerly." On cue, the doorbell rang. "Besides," she said as they walked to the front door together, "she's the only person in the world that I knew wouldn't have plans tonight."

Shelby tsked and Santana shrugged as she reached for the doorknob and pulled. "What? It's true. Hey, Berry."

"Hello, Santana," Rachel said before immediately diverting her attention. "Hi, Shelby. Before you say anything, I want you to know that I appreciate you allowing me into your home like this. I want to get to know you better, and I can't do that without getting to know Beth. She's essentially my sister, after all."

Santana kept her mouth shut. She knew how badly Rachel wanted to be part of Shelby's life. She also knew how badly Shelby wanted it, but also recognized her endless battle of guilt, regret, and hopelessness. She hoped she had made the right decision, calling Rachel.

"Yes. Of course. Thank you for coming, Rachel," Shelby managed after a multitude of emotions washing over her face. "Please, come in."

Santana sat on a stool by the door, letting Shelby handle the caretaking details. After a few minutes, she returned and grasped Santana's hand, leading her out the door and down the stairs. Shelby didn't say a word until they were sitting in Santana's car.

Santana knew when to be quiet. She hadn't said a word since Rachel had arrived.

"We could have stayed home. We don't need to go out. She shouldn't have to give up her evening. I have done nothing to deserve her generosity. I've caused her so much pain. I don't understand why –"

"Because she's Rachel," Santana finally said, placing her hand over Shelby's forearm to calm her. "And Rachel forgives everyone. She forgave you a long time ago."

Shelby sighed, her eyes watering but not quite crying. "How do you know?"

"Because. She's Rachel." Santana smiled. "I might have tormented her for years, but that doesn't mean I don't know her. She's a good person."

"I really don't know –"

"Hey. You said you trust me, right?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then trust me on this. Now let's go, or we'll lose our reservation."

Shelby nodded and turned to stare out the window as Santana started the engine. Santana felt her lace their fingers together as she drove, squeezing her hand tightly.

* * *

><p>"She'll have a Clos du Bois Pinot," Santana said to the waiter, before he had even offered a wine list. She knew Shelby needed it.<p>

"And for you?" the waiter asked.

"I'll have the same, actually," Santana replied with a warm smile, sending the waiter on his way. It broke into a grin when she saw the look on Shelby's face, one eyebrow cocked at Santana. "What? It's not my fault he didn't card me. You should be glad I look mature enough."

Shelby smiled a little, and Santana hoped she would be able to relax and enjoy the evening.

Between the wine, the food, the ambiance, and the charm and flattery Santana had dialed up to the max, Shelby was eventually able to enjoy herself. They sat, toying with each other's fingers as they debated whether or not to order a dessert.

The waiter reappeared. "Have you decided?"

Santana glanced at Shelby, who shook her head. "I think we need to pass tonight. Dinner was just too good; we're stuffed."

"Very well. I'll be your cashier this evening, whenever you're ready." The waiter set the black leather check holder on the table, and Santana snatched it before Shelby had a chance.

"Santana, don't. Let me."

"No, this is my date." She fished around in her purse until she found her credit card and slid it into the holder without glancing at the check.

"It's _our _date."

"Then you can find a way to repay me later." Santana slid her fingers between Shelby's, dragging them apart slowly. She saw Shelby shiver. They were going to have fun tonight.

* * *

><p>"Where are we going?" Shelby asked as Santana drove.<p>

"Dancing."

"Dancing?"

"Yeah, dancing. You dance."

"Not really."

"You have rhythm. You can dance. You just need to not think about it so much." Santana pulled into a parking space on the street and killed the engine. "Come on."

Shelby wobbled for a second when she got out of the car. "Whoa. Wine."

Santana smirked and gave Shelby her arm to steady herself. Yeah, they were definitely going to have fun tonight.

She led them a block up the street and into an unsuspecting looking building, and into an elevator that descended to the basement. It had been silent until the elevator doors opened, and muffled bass filtered through a door at the other end of the room. Santana knocked in a pattern and a narrow window slid open, a pair of eyes staring at them both.

"Nickelback is the greatest band ever," Santana said, pitching her voice up to be heard over the music.

The window slid closed and Shelby laughed. "Is this some sort of exclusive speakeasy?"

"That's exactly what it is," Santana said as they heard a loud metallic clang of a lock turning before the door swung inward, music and lights flooding over them.

"Hello, my lovelies!" Santana called out as they entered, earning a round of cheers in return. She led them to the bar, where the bartender – a cute redheaded woman – dropped two napkins in front of them, followed by two shot glasses, and poured two shots of tequila. Santana hadn't even ordered them.

"Been awhile," the bartender said over the music. "Missed you around here. Heard you graduated – congrats."

"Yeah, thanks." Santana slid the shots across the bar, passing one to Shelby. "This is my girl, Shelby." Santana turned and smiled at Shelby, amused by the look of astonishment on her face.

"Nice to meet you," Shelby said, leaning toward the bar to be heard. The bartender nodded and disappeared to wait on the other customers.

"Cheers," Santana said, tugging on Shelby's hand to get her attention. When she had it, she leaned in and ran her tongue up the side of Shelby's neck before tossing back the shot of tequila, wincing at the strong bite of alcohol. It passed quickly, and she noticed Shelby still holding her shot, still overwhelmed. "It hasn't been _that_ long since you've been in a club, has it?"

"What? No. Not really. I guess, kind of. You've obviously been here a lot."

Santana sidled up to Shelby and slipped her arm around her waist, pulling her closer to speak into her ear. "One of my brother's friends owns it. Used to come here a lot. Which means I know all the places to go to for privacy. Now drink."

"For the record, I don't condone underage drinking," Shelby said before downing the shot straight.

Santana waited for her to finish before pulling her into a deep but quick kiss. "I won't tell if you don't. Come on, we came here to dance."

With that, Santana pulled Shelby onto the dance floor, just in time for C+C Music Factory's "Everybody Dance Now" to start blasting, earning a round of cheers for the throwback track. She wrapped her arms around Shelby's neck and pulled her close, kissing her thoroughly before stepping back to start moving to the music. "I _know_ you used to dance to this song."

It took a few minutes, a Salt-n-Pepa song, and plenty of Santana dancing up on her before the tequila had set in enough to really get Shelby moving. Santana was almost giddy when she finally gave in, feeling Shelby's hands low on her back as they danced together. When the song changed to Janet Jackson's "Black Cat," Santana spun and backed into Shelby, arms moving automatically around Santana.

"Is it 90s night or something?" Shelby asked, speaking directly into Santana's ear. Her warm breath made Santana shiver.

"Thought you might have more fun if you actually knew the songs." Santana was caught off guard when she felt Shelby's lips on her shoulder. She shivered and pressed herself harder against Shelby, keeping her hips moving to the rhythm of the music. When the lips didn't disappear, she reached back and held the back of Shelby's neck, letting her eyes fall closed.

This was new for them. For months, they had to keep their relationship secret, their affections hidden from public view. They had only been "out" as a couple for a little over a month, and it had come with so much scrutiny and criticism that they were less open after the secret was out than they had been previously. Santana didn't care, of course, but Shelby was perpetually concerned. She had hoped getting a few drinks in her and going somewhere she wouldn't know anyone would let her loosen up. She enjoyed their home life, but everyone likes to get out and let their hair down once in awhile. It had been a weekly occurrence for Santana before she became involved with Shelby. She had missed it, though she had given it up voluntarily. She hadn't known for certain if Shelby would be able to have fun, but Santana had rolled the dice.

When she felt Shelby's hand working its way down her hip to reach the bare skin of her thigh, she knew it had been a good bet. Dirty thoughts raced through her mind as Shelby's tongue grazed the other side of her neck. They could do this right here on the dance floor if she wanted. It was packed enough that no one was paying attention to anything but their own dance partners or their drinks. The way Shelby's fingers were inching under the hem of her dress told her she wasn't alone in her thoughts, and her heart started racing. As much as she wanted it, she was enjoying the teasing more – the delaying of the inevitable.

She tilted her head back, pressing her lips to Shelby's throat before breaking away from her and crossing the packed dance floor to return to the bar. Shelby showed up a few seconds later, and Santana couldn't hide her smirk at the flush evident in Shelby's cheeks. She held up two fingers at the bartender, receiving a nod of acknowledgment, and turned to lean back against the bar. She snagged Shelby's hand and pulled her close and right into a kiss.

This time, she got Shelby's number one – Santana had labeled it as such because it was like their first kiss, full of lust and desire. It was tied with number four for her favorite kiss.

"Hey, lovebirds," the bartender shouted, slamming empty shot glasses down on the counter behind Santana to get their attention.

Shelby pulled away immediately, blushing this time from embarrassment rather than excitement. "Sorry!"

"Don't be," Santana said with a grin, pulling Shelby back into her as she corralled their shots. "I've been waiting to see you let loose. I like it."

Shelby laughed and reached for her glass, clinking it to Santana's before they tossed back the tequila together. They skipped the limes again, opting for each other's lips instead as they worked their way back onto the dance floor, easily falling into the rhythm of the music. Santana knew Shelby had truly let go when she let out a whoop at En Vogue's "Free Your Mind."

They danced until they both gave in to the pain caused by their heels. "I need to sit," Shelby yelled, louder than she needed to.

"Me, too," Santana said, grabbing Shelby's hand to lead her further into the club. Shelby anticipated moving toward the wall-length bench, but Santana tugged her away from it and through a curtained doorway.

"Where're we going?"

Santana glanced over her shoulder, feeling smug taking in Shelby's disheveled appearance. "Somewhere private."

"Private? Ooh, 's it the champagne room?" Shelby giggled.

"You coul' say that." Santana knew she was slurring her speech, too, and couldn't help but laugh. She counted doors, stopping at the fourth on the left to test the doorknob. It turned easily and she eased it open, making sure the room was empty before intruding on anyone. Satisfied, she yanked Shelby inside and slammed the door closed, immediately pushing Shelby back against it as she flipped the two locks.

"Oh, we shouldn't do this here," Shelby said, glancing lazily around the dimly lit room.

Before her brother's friend owned it and turned it into a respectable and exclusive establishment, it had been a strip club. He hadn't yet gotten around to converting the private rooms into VIP suites. Santana had never been so grateful.

"Oh, we definitely should." She covered Shelby's mouth with her own so she wouldn't try to protest again.

She knew their kisses were sloppy. She didn't care; they were having fun. It had been a long time since they were somewhere together without a toddler and with what looked to be an extremely comfortable oversized couch. Santana pulled Shelby away from the door, turning them so she could see enough to lead Shelby toward the couch. When they were close, Santana gave her a playful shove, sending her backwards into the copious number of throw pillows.

"Are you gonna give me a lap dance?" Shelby asked, struggling to push herself up to sit comfortably.

Santana glanced at the tacky stripper pole a few feet away. She walked up to it, feeling herself sway unsteadily. She grasped the pole and tossed her hair over her shoulder, throwing her best smoldering stare at Shelby. "Do you want one?"

Shelby gave up trying to sit up in the mess of pillows and threw the extras to the floor. "Do you know how to use that?"

"What, this?" Santana slid her hand up the gleaming metal before tightening her grip to lift herself, spinning around it once. "I may."

"Do that again."

Santana wanted to laugh – she never took pole dancing seriously. She and Brittany had taught themselves in this very room, just for something to do last summer. But the way Shelby was looking at her now…

She pulled herself up again, this time hooking her knee around the pole, spinning as she slid down. She abandoned the pole when her feet hit the ground. It was much to far away from Shelby. Instead, she let her body move to the music that was being piped into the room from the club and worked her way back to the couch, nudging Shelby's knees apart to stand between them.

"You want a dance, baby?" She asked, leaning down to whisper in Shelby's ear. She felt Shelby's hands on her waist and let herself be pulled down to straddle Shelby's lap. Shelby's tongue was in her mouth before she could continue her little role-playing game, and her hands were pushing her tight, short red skirt up her thighs.

Santana moaned, Shelby not hesitating to touch her where she had been waiting for it all night. She had to pull away from their kiss to breathe. This was lacking of their usual grace thanks to the alcohol, too, but it didn't matter. Santana held the back of the couch and worked her hips, making up for Shelby's absent precision. She felt the top of her dress being pulled down, and she moved to help. She pulled her arms out of her dress and glanced to see Shelby immediately yank it down and pop the front clasp of Santana's bra. Her mouth was on her breast immediately, and Santana heard herself moan again, loud this time. Somehow, they had never truly been alone for this. The realization made her arousal double and she covered Shelby's hand with her own, holding her against her body as she pushed her hips down.

"Oh, God." They were the only words she could manage as ecstasy washed over her.

A few seconds later, she dropped back to rest on Shelby's lap, bringing their mouths together. Shelby's kiss was still in category number one, and it took Santana a moment to realize why.

"Trade me," she said against Shelby's lips, already moving to sit on the couch and pull Shelby over her into the same position she was just in.

"Please," Shelby whimpered between kisses, and Santana ran her hand up Shelby's thigh. She groaned and Santana jumped, startled to find nothing but Shelby under the dress.

She had touched her far more roughly than she would have otherwise. "Sorry."

"'S'okay," Shelby managed. "Hard."

Santana shuddered. It had been so long since they were a little rough. She'd forgotten how much they both enjoyed it. She pushed into Shelby without warning, earning a moan of gratitude in response. She moved hard, and fast, and she made sure all Shelby had to do was hold on for the ride.

It wasn't but a few minutes and Shelby had come undone as well, every ounce of the past week's tension dissolving, leaving her slumped in Santana's lap.

Santana reclaimed her hand so she could wrap both arms around Shelby, holding her close. Her head still felt fuzzy and warm and she nuzzled into Shelby's chest, nipping gently at the breasts she had unintentionally ignored in their rushed passion.

"Time 's it?" Shelby mumbled, her voice muffled against Santana's neck.

Santana blindly felt around the couch, trying to find her wristlet that contained her phone. She didn't know where it went or when she had removed it, but it wasn't hooked on her wrist anymore.

"Don't know." She gave up and straightened her back, looking over Shelby's shoulder to spot it by the pole in the center of the room. "Let me up."

Shelby moved with a groan of protest, flopping back onto the couch. Santana laughed at her laziness and slid off the couch, opting to crawl. She could have walked, but this was easier. Plus, her feet were killing her.

"Nice ass," Shelby called, and Santana wiggled her hips before snatching her wristlet and crawling back to haul herself up and onto the couch next to Shelby. She pulled her phone out and checked the time. She had an unread text from Rachel, too.

"Almost 1."

Shelby sighed and pushed her hair out of her face, combing through it a few times to smooth it. "I told Rachel we'd be home by midnight."

Santana swiped across the screen of her phone to check the message.

"She's fine. She texted and said to take our time and have fun."

Shelby sat up and leaned over to see Santana's phone. "She did not." Santana turned her phone so Shelby could see it. "Huh."

"See. She's a good person." Santana typed out a quick reply to Rachel, thanking her and letting her know they would be home soon. She put her phone away and grabbed Shelby's hand, pulling it up to kiss the back of it. "Let's go."

They helped each other off the couch, complaining equally about their feet and the atrocity that heels are to women everywhere. Shelby helped Santana get re-dressed, both of them laughing as she repeatedly tried and failed to secure the clasp on Santana's bra. It took six tries, but she eventually got it.

Deciding they were presentable enough, they made their way back to the main club, walking gingerly. Santana stopped at the curtained doorway and nudged Shelby toward the cushioned bench that bordered the entire club. "Sit. I'll get us some water."

Santana knew she was sober by how badly her feet hurt, but she wasn't taking any chances. Rachel was fine with the extra time, and they could both use a big glass of water to hopefully prevent hangovers.

"You ladies have fun?" the bartender asked Santana as she leaned against the bar to take some weight off her feet.

Santana smirked and glanced over at Shelby, who was bobbing along to the music, not paying attention to Santana. "You could say that."

"Heading out?"

"Soon. Can I get a couple waters? And put the shots on my tab; I'll come by tomorrow and settle up."

"On the house tonight. You two looked like you needed a night out."

Santana picked up the waters and laughed. "You have no idea."

She worked her way back to Shelby, sighing grateful when she sat, taking long gulps of water to help clear the last of the fuzziness from her brain. She heard Shelby quietly singing along to the Ace of Base song that was playing, and she nudged her. "Did they play this at your high school prom?"

"Were you even born when this came out?" Shelby retorted.

They both laughed and jostled each other a bit before settling. Their age difference was no longer an issue between them. It had never been a significant one anyway, but once Santana had graduated, it served only to be a point for humor and good-natured ribbing. Shelby picked at Santana for being so young, and Santana at Shelby for being so old, but they worked regardless of the nineteen years between them.

"Your tits look amazing in that dress, by the way," Santana said over her glass as she paused to speak. "Should have told you earlier." She felt Shelby shove her weakly.

"Hush."

"What? They do."

"Thank you."

Santana's eyes were heavy. Now that they weren't dancing or…doing other things, the late hour was catching up with her. Getting up at 5:00am and chasing a toddler all day wasn't conducive to being out until 1:00am.

"We need to go or I'm not going to make it home without falling asleep," she said as she heaved herself off her seat, finishing her water as she helped Shelby up with her other hand. They left their glasses at the bar and Santana waved her goodbyes to those who shouted her name before they slipped into the elevator to go back to street level.

Shelby was chuckling to herself and Santana raised her eyebrows in a silent question. "Nothing. It's just…I've never made love in a club before."

"Uh oh," Santana said, rocking her hips to the beat in her head.

"Uh oh, what?" Shelby asked, confused.

Santana grinned and started singing, _"I can tell by the way you lookin' at me, girl. I wanna make love in this club, yeah, make love in this club, yeah, in this club…"_

Shelby laughed and pushed Santana's ass off her. "That can't be a real song."

"Of course it is," Santana said seriously, turning to pin Shelby against the wall of the elevator just as it opened into a deserted lobby. She kept her pinned there, letting the doors close again. She pressed herself closer and captured her lips, kissing her slowly until Shelby turned her head away, breathing heavily.

"I draw the line at sex in a public elevator, Santana."

Santana reached down and grabbed Shelby's backside under her dress, giving it a playful squeeze before pushing away and hitting the button to open the elevator doors again. "For now."

She heard Shelby mutter something under her breath, but didn't bother asking her to repeat it. Instead, she offered her arm to Shelby to take and they walked, elbows linked, back to Santana's car, both immediately kicking off their heels once they sat down.

The drive back to their condo was quiet. Santana could guess Shelby was wishing she wasn't quite so sober, knowing she was going to have to face Rachel again in a few minutes.

As they climbed the stairs, shoes in hand, Shelby stopped one flight short. "Does it bother her that we're together?"

Santana turned at the top of the stairs and looked down, shrugging. "She's never said anything about it to me."

If Rachel was bothered that her estranged mother was dating her former bully, she had either gotten over it or chosen to keep quiet. Santana had assumed she was over it; she really did feel that Rachel was a good, understanding person, and that she would never be angry about someone else's happiness. Of course, Rachel was always jealous when she or Mercedes got the rare solo, but never once did she hesitate to congratulate them. Santana had discovered in their weeks apart since graduation, and since having her outlook on life and other people drastically altered by basically becoming a parent overnight, that she had treated and misread Rachel terribly throughout high school. Truth be told, she was actually hopeful Rachel and Shelby would fully reconcile. She wanted to try being friends with Rachel. After all, she still hadn't ruled out going to New York City in the fall, and it would be nice to have a trustworthy friend in the city. It would be even nicer if that friend and her girlfriend and her girlfriend's daughter could get along. Even though the girlfriend is the friend's mother and the daughter is their other friends' daughter…

Santana shook her head. If she thought about it too long, it got weird. "Let's go. She's probably tired."

Santana unlocked the door quietly, expecting Rachel to be asleep. Instead, she saw Rachel sitting on the couch, whisper-singing along to _The Music Man_ playing on the TV, complete with arm choreography. She smiled and moved aside to let Shelby through – it was so obvious, now, from whom Rachel inherited her drive and personality. She had walked in on Shelby doing much the same on more than one occasion. She whistled, getting Rachel's attention.

"Oh, hi!" Rachel said in a hushed voice. "Sorry, hope you don't mind; I raided your DVD rack tonight. There were just too many masterpieces to ignore."

"It's fine," Shelby answered, crossing the room to set her shoes in the bedroom. "How'd it go?"

"Oh it was fine. Beth is an absolute doll. We played a little bit and I read her a book and she went right to sleep, like you said she would. So easy."

Santana slipped past them and into the bedroom, trying not to interrupt but wanting to eavesdrop a little. She hovered by the dresser, out of sight from either woman in the living room.

"Good. I'm glad."

"Did you and Santana have fun? You look like you had a good time."

Santana snorted a laugh and didn't bother stifling it. She hoped it made Shelby blush.

"Dinner and dancing. She took me to this underground club. It was 90s night."

"Did you actually know the songs?"

"I did!" Shelby said with a laugh, and Santana heard Rachel's quiet giggle. Then, a few moments later, "I really appreciate this, Rachel."

"Oh, no, _I_ appreciate it, Shelby. We've stopped and started our progress so many times. I hope that this – you trusting me with Beth, and in your home – maybe means it won't stop this time. I really do want us to get to know one another. At least as friends, if nothing more."

Santana could hear the longing in Rachel's voice. Santana didn't know what it was like to grow up without a mother. Rachel was always happy with her two fathers, but sometimes, like now, Santana knew how much Rachel missed having a maternal presence in her life.

"Well…we'll keep taking it one step at a time. Maybe we can keep a good pace this time. I'll try not to drop the ball. Again."

"I'd like that very much."

It was quiet so long, Santana started wondering if they were hugging. She walked past the door as quietly as she could, glancing into the living room as she pulled the covers down on the well-made bed. They weren't hugging, but she could tell Rachel was doing all she could to keep herself planted on the couch instead of launching herself at Shelby. Shelby was hugging herself, staring at the floor. The awkwardness was starting to even kill Santana, so she spoke up.

"So the little goober behaved, Rache?"

Shelby glanced at her, offering a small smile of gratitude.

"Yeah, she was really great. Thank you for calling me, Santana."

"Ain't no thing." Santana joined Shelby, who had moved to hover in the bedroom doorway. "I saw on Facebook you were home for the weekend, thought you might not have plans. You going back to New York on Monday?"

"Tomorrow night. I have voice lessons Monday through Thursday that I can't miss. I only made it home because of the holiday being in the middle of the week so everything from Wednesday on was canceled."

"How are things going at NYADA?" Shelby asked. Santana glanced at her, relieved and maybe a little proud.

"Well, it's just summer prep, I'm not really in any courses yet. They have me working with a private coach. She said I could be a star pupil if she can, quote, 'whip me into shape.'"

Santana smiled. She couldn't even begin to imagine the debates that had to have happened when someone told Rachel Berry her voice wasn't good enough.

"That's good. They don't give everyone that privilege. They must really believe in you."

"Sometimes it doesn't feel like it," Rachel said with a shrug. "Well, most times. I'm not used to being one of a thousand; I used to be one _in_ a thousand."

"You should thank me for all those times I told you that you weren't any good," Santana said. "Think of it as basic training for college."

"Gee, thanks," Rachel said, laughing as she stood.

"Anytime. I know you'll knock 'em dead." The look on Rachel's face warmed Santana's heart. She really didn't understand how she could have been so mean to someone who was so pure of heart. She really was messed up. She was glad she was changing.

"That means a lot coming from you, Santana. Thank you."

"Sure." Santana turned and swatted Shelby's backside, making her jump. "Honey, pay the girl so we can go to bed, I'm about to pass out standing up." She left them to their conversation and goodbyes, closing herself in the bathroom to strip out of her dress and lingerie and wash the makeup off her face and the tequila out of her mouth. She skipped her usual T-shirt for pajamas and opted to climb into bed nude. She knew it was a good decision when the cold sheets enveloped her, pulling her to sleep almost immediately. She heard the front door click shut, and saw the darkness grow as Shelby turned out the lights.

A few minutes later, Shelby slid into bed behind her, pulling her close to drop a kiss on her bare shoulder.

"Thank you, Santana."


	7. A Winter Getaway, Part I

**A/N:** Someone suggested a weekend getaway prompt, and this is what her plotbunny generated. It will eventually be 2-3 chapters. Reminder: Established Shelby/Santana and they've been dating and living together for several months post-graduation. This is loosely set the winter following graduation.

* * *

><p>Santana gave up and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. She had to bite her tongue. Shelby had made four trips back into their condo. They hadn't even made it out of the garage yet.<p>

"And you have both our cell numbers?"

"Yeah. You already checked my phone the last two times you came back," Puck said. Santana could tell he was fighting to keep his cool, too. He met her eyes and she gave him an apologetic look.

"And the number – "

Quinn cut her off, far less patient than Puck. "For the resort, the resort's spa, and the resort's three restaurants. And yes, also for her pediatrician, the walk-in clinic, the pharmacy, poison control, a heating repairman, an electrician, and a plumber. You put them in our phones a week ago."

"And put the list on the fridge," Puck added.

"And in the bathroom."

"And Beth's room."

"And on the TV," Quinn finished, pointing at the printout taped to the center of the television's screen.

"I promise we can handle this, Shelby," Puck said earnestly.

"I don't want any funny business between you two," Shelby said, gesturing between Quinn and Puck. "I don't want you distracted."

Puck only smirked, but Quinn scoffed in disgust. "Please. That ship has sailed."

Santana met Puck's eyes again. They both knew Quinn had someone waiting for her back in Connecticut – someone named Bianca.

"And – "

Everyone had had enough, Santana included. She cut Shelby off firmly. "We're going to lose our reservation if we arrive too late. _Darling_."

She saw Shelby's back stiffen at her tone, but it had worked. "Fine. Let me just check on her one more – "

"Don't you dare wake her up on purpose just so we have an excuse not to leave."

Shelby shot her a look over her shoulder. It lacked the bite she knew Shelby intended it to have – one more for show than anything truly meaningful. "I won't."

When they made it out the door for the sixth time, Santana made it a point to beat Shelby to the driver's seat of her car, pulling out of the garage and getting on the road before Shelby could protest and demand to go check one more time.

"She'll be fine," Santana said after a few blocks, noticing Shelby's anxiety.

"I've never left her for more than a night. What if she forgets me? Or you?"

Santana was glad her eye-rolling was hidden behind her sunglasses. She was also glad her own worry, stoked by Shelby's comment, went unnoticed. "She isn't going to forget us. We'll be back on Sunday."

"Three nights."

"Mhmm," Santana said, reaching across the console to entwine her fingers with Shelby's. "Three whole nights. Alone."

* * *

><p>It was a long drive to the resort in northern Michigan, but the weather and road conditions cooperated well enough that they made decent time.<p>

"Shut. Up." Santana exclaimed as they pulled onto the property. She was glad Shelby was now behind the wheel so she could gawk. It was already dark due to the winter month, and the windows of dozens of cottages, houses, and villas glowed welcomingly.

They made their way up a winding road after checking in at the main lodge, Santana watching house numbers until she spotted their assigned cottage. "There, on the left."

Shelby pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, popping the trunk as she exited. "This is so cute," she said, looking up at the grey-blue house.

Santana hefted their suitcase out of the trunk and slammed it closed. "Let's go check it out."

A few seconds later, they were inside, luggage forgotten by the door, shoes and coats left in the foyer.

"It's so…open." Santana turned slowly, taking in the warmth and expanse of the main living room that spilled into a kitchen and dining room. She was so taken aback by her surroundings that she didn't even notice Shelby had disappeared.

"Santana? You have to come see this."

Shelby sounded so far away. "Where are you?"

"Upstairs."

Santana found a set of stairs and followed them up, leading to a spacious bedroom. "I don't know what else could be better than…" She drifted off when she found Shelby. She was standing out on a snow-covered balcony, leaning against its railing. Santana joined her, wrapping her arms around Shelby from behind to keep them both warmer against the chill.

There were no streetlights, no illuminated billboards, no glaring fast food signs. The twinkling lights of the resort faded into darkness, making it impossible to tell where they ended and the stars of the night sky began. It was silent, too, save for the quiet rustling of bare tree branches in the wind. As much as Santana wanted to comment on the beauty and solitude, she couldn't bring herself to break the silence.

Shelby apparently felt the same. She leaned back into Santana's embrace and covered her arms with her own. Santana sighed and turned to rest her cheek against Shelby's back. She was about to close her eyes when something in the corner of the balcony caught her attention. She smiled. She knew how they would be spending their evening.

"Come on," Santana said quietly, hating to break the moment, but they were both starting to shiver. "I'll go get our stuff."

"Sure you don't need help?" Shelby asked as she sat on the end of the bed, blowing into her hands to warm them.

"Nope. Be right back."

Santana retrieved the suitcase and hauled it up the stairs to flop it onto a chair in a corner of the room. "Warming up?"

"I'm fine," Shelby said with a smile. "Can you hand me my purse? I just want to check in."

Santana tossed Shelby's oversized black designer bag to her and unzipped the suitcase, digging through her clothes until she found what she was looking for and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. "I'm just going to change real quick."

The bathroom had the same balance of opulence and down-hominess as the rest of the cottage. It was all wood and porcelain, with a wall-length counter that had two sinks, a whirlpool tub, and a double-sized walk-in shower that had two showerheads.

Santana stripped out of her travel clothes and into something more befitting of a different climate and freshened up at one of the sinks.

"Everything good at home?" she asked through the door as she folded up her discarded clothes.

"Yeah, they're about to give her a bath. Said everything went fine."

"See? Nothing to worry about." Santana pulled the bathroom door open and leaned against the doorframe. "Now you can focus on other things."

Shelby did a double take. "Why are you in a bikini?"

Santana pouted her lips. "You don't like it?"

"I didn't say I didn't like it," Shelby said as she stood up and crossed the room. "I asked why you're wearing it. It's freezing outside."

"Then maybe we should figure out a way to keep me warm."

Shelby smiled and started to reach for her, but Santana leaned away to reach behind the door and pulled one of the complimentary bathrobes off a hook. "This should do the trick." She slipped the robe on and moved past Shelby to sit rather demurely on the edge of the bed, though she intentionally left the robe untied.

"Yours is on the counter," Santana said, nodding at the bathroom.

"Santana – "

"Just go put it on, please?"

When the door closed behind Shelby, Santana jumped off the bed and jammed her feet into her Uggs. She pulled the balcony door open and almost lost her breath when the frigid air hit her. Swearing, she tied her robe and kicked away snow to make a path to the corner of the balcony. It was heavy, especially with the several inches of snow on top of it, but she was able to flip the cover of the hot tub back, steam pouring out. She was relieved that it was, in fact, filled and functioning. She found the controls and turned it on properly before running back inside. She grabbed the simple wooden desk chair and set it next to the hot tub and returned to the room again, closing the door behind her as she pulled off her boots, deciding at the last second to hit the light switch to kill the lights so it would be darker on the balcony. By the time she was done, she was absolutely frozen and hoped it would be worth it.

When Shelby reemerged from the bathroom in her own bikini and open robe, Santana thawed immediately.

"So is this part of a game, or…why is it dark? Santana?"

"You'll see. Come on." Santana took Shelby's hand and led her through the bedroom toward the balcony.

Shelby stopped her when she reached for the door. "What are you doing? We'll freeze."

"No we won't."

"It's fifteen degrees right now; yes we will."

"Just trust me. And walk fast." Santana slid the door open and pulled Shelby out, both of them gasping from the cold. Shelby closed the door and Santana led them through her cleared path.

"Is that a…we have a hot tub?"

"Yep. On the count of three, drop your robe on the chair and get in before we die."

"Oh God, you're serious."

"One, two, three!" Santana moved without waiting for Shelby. She had to commit to it or she wouldn't be able to abandon the bathrobe. She threw it on the chair and all but ran up the three stairs that led to the hot tub, stepping up and right into the heated water, sinking to her chin.

"Fuck," Shelby said, showing up in the water a second later. "You're crazy."

"I'm romantic."

"Freezing our asses off isn't romantic."

"Give it a minute. Don't doubt me." Santana reached out under the water and found Shelby's arm, using it to pull herself alongside Shelby. "Better?"

"Yeah," Shelby said, visibly starting to relax. "Though I think we're going to get hypothermia when we get out."

"Then maybe we'll just have to stay in here all winter," Santana said as she slipped her arm around Shelby's waist, pulling her closer.

"Or all weekend," Shelby replied.

"Good enough for me." Santana slid down her sit a bit so she could rest her head on the edge of the Jacuzzi so she could gaze up at the sky. "So many stars."

"They're beautiful."

Santana grazed her fingertips up and down Shelby's side, enjoying their nearness.

"We haven't been alone together in so long." Shelby's voice was quiet.

Santana let her fingers trail higher, grazing the side of Shelby's breast. "That's why we're here." She bit the inside of her cheek when she felt Shelby's hand appear on her thigh.

"Then I guess we better make the most of it."

Santana had meant for the hot tub to just be warm relaxation before spending quality time together in bed. Though if Shelby had other plans, far be it from her to stop her, and the fingers tickling her inner thigh seemed to indicate her intentions. "If you insist."

Shelby's touch trailed between Santana's legs, the sensation dulled by the water and fabric, but it made Santana tremble anyway. Shelby teased her until Santana finally whimpered a "Please," and Shelby complied, sneaking her fingers under Santana's bathing suit to graze her body. But the moment she appeared, she was gone, and Santana felt her drift out of her embrace. She didn't particularly care where Shelby was going. She knew she wasn't leaving her or stopping, so whatever it was would be worth it. She kept her eyes on the stars, waiting.

Shelby didn't keep her waiting long. She felt hands on her waist and then on her bikini bottoms, grasping them to ease them down her legs. It was easy in the water, a simple nudge from Shelby and she floated up just enough to slip them off. Shelby disappeared again, just for a moment, and then Santana felt hands on her knees, parting them slowly as she saw Shelby at the edge of her vision, just before warm lips connected with the chilled, exposed skin of her neck. Santana let one of her arms drift through the water to rest against her back, pulling her closer as her touch traveled up her abdomen, pushing the triangle top away to cover Santana's breasts with her hands.

Steam curled around them, sometimes clouding Santana's view of the night sky, and she was starting to wonder if it was they or the Jacuzzi heating the water. She sighed and trailed her fingers along Shelby's back, tilting her head slightly to encourage Shelby to continue her attention to Santana's neck. She did, and Santana was so distracted by it that she didn't notice the hand that trailed back down her stomach to slip between her legs until fingers were pressing against her purposefully.

Santana fought to keep her eyes open. She knew she would see stars either way, but the moment was too surreal to miss. Shelby had moved to work on warming the other side of Santana's neck, though had already been quite effective at doing so with the two fingers making slow circles underwater.

Shelby finally coaxed a moan out of Santana when she slipped inside just briefly. The movement and their buoyancy lifted Santana and she caught herself with a leg around Shelby's waist, settling herself back on the seat with Shelby as her anchor.

The circles were quicker now, and Santana pressed her hips into the touch and heard Shelby's quiet moan, the one that meant she was truly enjoying herself. Shelby's free arm slid around Santana's waist to pull herself closer, until their bodies were flush and her hand was pinned in place. She caught Santana's earlobe between her lips and Santana gasped in pleasure, unable to discern if the stars she was seeing were those above them or created by Shelby.

It didn't matter, though. All that mattered was Shelby and the stars and their intimacy. When her heart slowed, she tore her eyes off the sea of stars to meet Shelby's waiting gaze. Shelby kissed her, stealing her breath again. When they parted, Shelby rested her forehead against Santana's, both of them breathing hard.

"I love you," Shelby whispered before brushing her lips along Santana's again.

Santana felt her heart flutter. They professed their love to one another often, but sometimes Shelby said it with such conviction that it made her feel as though it was she who held her to the earth, not gravity. It was those moments that told her the sacrifices and hardships they went through to be together were worth it. It was those moments that made her feel as though she could conquer the world. She was so head over heels in love that she barely believed she could be so lucky.

"I love you, too." Santana lifted her chin to bring their mouths back together in a slow, deep kiss. Her arms wrapped around Shelby's waist and she pushed herself off the seat, letting them drift to the other side of the Jacuzzi until Shelby was on the bench. Her wandering hands found the ties at the base of Shelby's neck and the middle of her back, pulling at the strings until her top drifted away in the swirling current.

Santana was working her kisses down Shelby's throat and she contemplated just how much she could do in the hot water. She trailed her lips down the middle of Shelby's chest until water was up to her chin. A glance up and she saw Shelby's eyes were closed, and, steeling herself against the heat, she took a deep breath and slipped beneath the water, just enough to catch the tip of Shelby's breast between her lips. She felt rather than heard Shelby's quick inhale, and she imagined the moan she felt vibrate in her chest. She didn't want to let go, but it was getting too hot, and she needed to breathe, so she swirled her tongue one last time and came up for air, barely getting a breath before Shelby's mouth was covering hers, stealing it.

Santana pulled away quickly, desperately needing to breathe. She felt a shiver run through her, and she realized it wasn't from Shelby. She hadn't fully thought through what going under water would do. Now her hair was soaked and exposed to the below-freezing air. She was cold, and getting colder, fast.

"Let me finish this inside so I don't freeze," Santana said with a laugh, her teeth already trying to chatter.

"Okay," Shelby said, still breathing hard. "We're just going to have to make a run for it, aren't we."

"It's only a few feet; we'll make it. I hope." Santana found the lower half of her bathing suit and the top half of Shelby's floating in the tub and balled them in her fist as she swam to the edge nearest the cottage. "I'm going straight for the shower. Meet me there."

With that, Santana pulled herself out of the hot tub, feet landing on the frozen deck. She moved fast, grabbing her robe off the chair. She didn't even bother putting it on, throwing open the glass door and making a beeline for the bathroom. She yanked the shower stall's door open and cranked the faucets wide open, throwing the mismatched bathing suits in a sink and her robe on the counter before jumping under the downpour from the waterfall-style showerhead as soon as it was warm. She had just pulled off her displaced bikini top when Shelby showed up a few seconds later, crashing in as unceremoniously as Santana had.

"Fuck, it's freezing!" Shelby said, spinning in place under her showerhead to let the hot water flow over her.

Santana smiled and reached across the shower to pull Shelby under her own cascade of warm water, hands immediately moving to Shelby's swimsuit bottoms to push them over her hips. They fell to the floor and she grabbed Shelby's backside playfully, pulling her closer.

"Your ass is cold," she said with a grin, easing her grip into a gentle massage.

Shelby dropped her head to Santana's shoulder, still shivering a little. "Can't imagine why."

"My fault. Guess I should make it all better." Santana adjusted her stance to slip her thigh between Shelby's, lifting her knee just enough until she was flush against Shelby.

"Oh…" Shelby said, voice muffled against Santana's shoulder.

"Better?"

"A little."

Santana pondered her options. She had meant for them to just shed the chill in the shower and take this to bed, but neither of them seemed very eager to leave the bathroom. She knew there wasn't a built-in seat in the stall – she had specifically looked for one earlier – but there was a safety bar behind her. It would have to do. At least Shelby would have something to hold onto.

She turned them around, backing Shelby into the tiled wall. "Cold," Shelby said with a hiss, reaching for the showerhead to angle it towards her shoulder.

"I'll make you forget," Santana said, using the low, purring voice she knew made Shelby weak.

True to form, Shelby's head hit the wall, hands dropping off Santana to grasp the rail behind her. Santana smirked and bent down to be able to bathe Shelby's breasts with attention until Shelby's hips were pressing forward, begging for their own consideration. She abandoned her breasts and stood back up, kissing Shelby hard, almost roughly. She ran one of her hands down Shelby's leg to her knee and back up to fit the palm of her hand between Shelby's thighs, just holding her as she won the battle their tongues were waging. When Shelby conceded and let Santana claim her mouth, Santana claimed her center, too, easily sliding two fingers into Shelby.

Shelby groaned against their kiss and Santana started rocking, the heel of her hand pressing hard against Shelby in the way she knew drove her crazy. Sure enough, a few seconds later and Shelby's leg was around her waist, her kisses and voice and movements urging Santana to keep going.

Santana knew not to stop. She wouldn't stop until Shelby couldn't support herself anymore, and maybe not even then. The shower was wide enough to easily lie down if they needed to. The desire to please Shelby so absolutely made Santana moan and push into her faster, coaxing whimpers and curses from Shelby's lips.

Santana grabbed Shelby's backside with her free hand, gripping it hard. "Still cold?" she asked, breathing hard.

"Fuck," Shelby muttered, changing her grip on the rail. "So hot."

"Yeah you are," Santana said, kissing her again, even harder. She worked her hand against Shelby expertly, hearing Shelby's moans growing urgent. She broke their kiss and dropped her head to Shelby's shoulder to better focus. She changed her angle slightly, rubbing hard, and then Shelby was melting at her hand, moans echoing around them. Santana held her as Shelby's body rocked from waves of ecstasy.

"Ohhh God," Shelby finally said, able to form words again.

Santana lifted her head, a smile on her face. "All better?"

"So much better," Shelby said, her voice thick, as she pulled Santana into a slow, wet kiss.

Santana kissed her back, noticing just how much pleasuring Shelby had turned her on again. She felt for Shelby's arms around her neck and pulled one of them down, dragging her hand immediately between her legs. "I'll be quick."

Shelby opened her eyes and glanced down between them, adjusting her hand against Santana. "You don't have to be."

"I know, but I will be."

Shelby laughed and moved her fingers against Santana and not thirty seconds later, Santana was clinging to Shelby, her moans being those to echo around them this time.

Santana let a few moments pass, savoring the way Shelby was caressing her back before mustering the strength to pull away and turn off the faucets.

"I'm fucking starving," she said as she wrung water out of her hair.

"So romantic," Shelby said with half a smile, doing the same.

"Sorry. I'm famished, honey."

Shelby smiled fully and wrapped her arms around Santana again, kissing her firmly. "That's more like it."

Santana giggled and kissed her back while walking backwards, blindly feeling behind her for the door so she wouldn't run into it. She bumped into it and gave it a push, opening it to let in the unwelcomed cooler air of the bathroom. Shelby finally released her and she fetched a few towels from the nearby cabinet, handing one to her girlfriend before drying herself.

"This place have room service?" she asked, looking at Shelby upside down as she toweled her hair.

"Supposed to. I think I saw a menu in the kitchen."

"I'll go order. What do you want?"

"Doesn't matter. You know what I like."

"Yeah I do," Santana said with a wink as she secured a towel around her body.

Shelby laughed. "That's not what I meant."

"I know," Santana said as she turned and left. "Doesn't mean it's not still true."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	8. A Winter Getaway, Part II

**A/N:** The weekend continues. And this is most definitely rated M.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."<p>

Santana grinned as she snapped the bindings down over her boot. "It's a ski resort. Did you think we wouldn't ski?"

"I had hoped." Shelby struggled to slam her heel down hard enough to snap into her second ski, but it eventually popped.

Santana was on her snowboard, wiggling enough to rock back and forth impatiently. "You said you've skied before. What's the big deal?"

"I was twenty-five."

"And?"

"And I'm not exactly in the same shape I was when I was twenty-five."

"I find that hard to believe." Santana pulled her mirrored aviator sunglasses off the top of her head and slipped them on. "Come on."

"I'm going to break myself!"

Santana laughed and kicked herself toward the bunny hill. She would give Shelby the courtesy of not watching her complete lack of coordination while she got her bearings. Not that she would admit it, but she was a little shaky, too. A couple weekend trips in middle and high school were her only experience.

"The bunny hill? What, scared of the real deal?" Shelby had caught up with her.

Santana felt her competitive streak prickle. She and Shelby had a very balanced relationship, but now and then they would square off in a battle of who was better/stronger/faster/wittier/funnier/had the bigger lung capacity. Shelby was smiling mischievously. Now would be one of those times.

"In your dreams," Santana said, scoffing. "Thought I should give my old lady an easy start. Don't want you to fall and break a hip."

"Take that back."

"Prove me wrong."

"Fine. Let's go." Shelby pushed herself forward with her ski poles, still awkward with the rhythm required to move across the flat snow.

Santana kicked after her, not saying anything as she passed her, but waited patiently for her to catch up so they could get in line at a chair lift together. They jostled one another playfully on the ride up, pausing halfway to kiss.

"Remember to keep your tips up," Santana said as they neared the top.

"I know what I'm doing," Shelby said, readying herself.

They both slid off the bench relatively well and stopped a few feet away from the main traffic so Santana could clip her other foot in. "So, are we racing? Or what?"

"I believe that's our only option." Shelby adjusted her beanie and scarf as she waited.

Santana slid up alongside Shelby, both of them looking down the slope. It was the easiest run at the resort, aside from the bunny hill. "Then count it off."

"On your mark. Get set. Go!"

Santana bent her knees and hopped forward, immediately wobbling. It took a few seconds to find her balance but the skill came back to her quickly. She zig-zagged down the hill, only making it a point to stay ahead of Shelby, who was one zag behind her.

She had forgotten how much fun snowboarding was, and just as she started to get lost in her experience, she heard Shelby's distinctive yelp. Santana hit the brakes on her board, almost falling over from the quick turn. She leaned on its edge to look back up the hill just in time for a lone ski to slide right to her. Shelby and the rest of her equipment were twenty feet up, sitting in the snow.

Santana grabbed the ski and held it up. "Yard sale!"

Shelby's hand was in the air, and though it was impossible to discern because she was wearing mittens, Santana knew which finger she was holding up.

"Hip okay?"

The other mittened hand went up and Santana laughed as she bent down to unstrap herself, hefting her board under one arm and Shelby's rogue ski in the other to walk up the hill.

"Shut up," Shelby said as she grabbed her ski from Santana and tossed it to the snow to step back into it.

"I didn't say anything," Santana said melodically.

"Let's keep it that way. Bye!" Shelby turned and pushed down the hill, leaving Santana with her snowboard in her hand and far behind.

"Hey!" Santana shrieked. "Oh that bitch," she said to herself as she threw her board on the snow and strapped her feet back into place as fast as she could to head after her.

The adrenaline and irritation that she had allowed herself to be tricked her made her pick up her speed, and around every bend she expected to catch up with Shelby, but she never did. In fact, she didn't find her until she was at the bottom of the run, and Shelby was standing by the fence, waiting.

"'Bout time. I think it's almost Spring."

"You played dirty!"

Shelby was grinning. "Did you forget who I am?"

"But you cheated!" Santana was livid. She did not like being tricked. She liked losing even less.

"No, no, no, honey," Shelby said with a laugh. "I capitalized on your known chivalric tendency. Thank you for catching my ski, by the way."

"Yeah, you're welcome," Santana huffed.

"Aww," Shelby said with a pout as she shuffled to Santana to wrap her arms around her waist, the angle awkward thanks to their equipment. "Don't be a sore loser."

Santana smiled a little and ducked her head to kiss Shelby's cheek. "Rematch, now that I know what I'm actually up against?"

"You're on."

* * *

><p>"If it makes you feel better, I think I pulled a muscle in my back when I wrecked that second time," Santana said as they shed layers of winter gear in the foyer. She had been the victor in what had become a best-of-seventeen-runs competition.<p>

Shelby pulled off her beanie, smiling a little. "It might."

Santana rotated her arm a few times and twisted at the waist, trying to crack her back dramatically. "I can already feel it tightening up."

"I think you dropped something," Shelby said as she dealt with the static in her hair left by her hat.

"And what's that?" Santana asked with a smile.

"A hint, maybe?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Santana grimaced and held the back of her neck.

Shelby rolled her eyes and walked to the kitchen to grab a couple bottles of water from the case on the counter before heading upstairs. "Yes, I will give you a massage. But only if you shower first. You stink."

Santana gasped in offense. "I do not!"

Shelby leaned back around the corner of the stairwell. "You look like you do. Shower."

Santana grumbled as she followed Shelby upstairs to their room, snatching a bottle out of her hand as they went. It wasn't until she peeled off her undershirt that she noticed how much of a sweat she had worked up beneath all the layers. But she didn't stink.

"You gonna join me?" she asked.

"No, you go ahead. I want to check in with Puck and Quinn and need to check my email. I'll hop in after you."

"At least come talk to me if I'm not out before you're done," Santana said as she closed the shower's door behind her.

Santana finished without Shelby coming in, so she tied the belt on her bathrobe to venture out and find her. Shelby was sitting on the foot of the bed, eyes unfocused, chewing on her thumbnail.

Santana's heart dropped immediately. "What's wrong? Is Beth okay?"

Shelby jerked back to attention, plastering on a bright smile. "She's fine! She's fine. They went sledding today and built a snowman. Quinn emailed me pictures," Shelby said, nodding toward her open laptop on the desk in the corner.

Something still felt off, but Shelby would never lie about her daughter's wellbeing, so Santana chose to let it go, for now. She leaned over the desk chair, scrolling through the photos: Quinn and Beth being pulled on a bright red plastic sled; Puck holding onto Beth as they rode down a hill; Beth in her purple snowsuit that made her look triple her actual size, pushing a clump of snow along the ground; Puck jamming arm sticks into a full-sized snowman; Beth crying as the big snowman lay in pieces on the ground, apparently having toppled over; Quinn holding her and obviously trying not to laugh as she cried. Santana was glad they were getting to spend time with Beth; she couldn't imagine having a child and giving her up, but she would forever be grateful that their decision led to Beth being part of her own life.

"I miss her," she said as she closed Shelby's laptop and turned to lean against the chair.

"Me, too." Shelby stood with a sigh. "I'll go shower. Meet you downstairs?"

Santana knew she was still hiding something, but as much as it drove her crazy, she knew Shelby would always tell her when she was ready. They had had enough arguments for her to learn that no amount of nagging would get it out of her.

"Sure," Santana said with a smile.

She went back downstairs to flip through the leather-bound room service menu. It was more like an all-in-one delivery menu, since it came via car and in take-out containers, but who was she to nitpick? The food was amazing. She called in dinner and went to the living room to wait, noticing the fireplace. She poked at it a few minutes trying to figure out if it was real or not until she found a palm-sized remote control sitting on the mantle. Guessing, she pointed it at the fireplace and pushed the "on" button, not sure if it or the television or some other gadget would come to life. When flames shot up, she smiled triumphantly and sat on the couch, holding her bare feet toward the fire to warm them.

"Nice." Shelby's voice right next to her ear startled her, having gotten lost in watching the flames dance.

She felt hands squeezing her shoulders and she shivered, the promise of a proper massage on the horizon. "Thought it might be romantic."

"I think you might be right." Shelby pressed a kiss to Santana's cheek, straightening just as their doorbell rang. "Dinner?"

"Yeah," Santana moved to get up, but Shelby put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll get it."

Shelby returned a minute later, paper bag in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other, looking adorable and ridiculous with her wet hair and bathrobe. "You're really laying it on thick."

"What, now I'm _too _romantic?"

"I didn't say that," Shelby said with a smile as she set the delivery on the couch next to Santana. "Stay."

Santana laughed. "Me, or the food?"

"Both."

Shelby disappeared and returned a minute later, apparently having found a spare blanket and pillow in a closet somewhere. She dropped them on the floor and left again, this time returning with a pair of wine glasses and bottle opener from the kitchen. She set them on the mantle and picked up the blanket to unfold it and settle it flat.

Santana watched her work, unable to keep from smiling. They were both diehard romantics, and the craziness of their day-to-day lives rarely afforded them the opportunity to indulge each other. "Fireside picnic?"

"Of course," Shelby said, flashing a smile as she moved the glasses to the hearth and retrieved the dinner delivery before easing herself down to sit on the blanket to unpack the various containers. "What did you order?"

Santana slid off the couch to sit across from Shelby, tossing the bag aside when it was empty. "Comfort food. Let me?" She held her hand out, glancing at the wine. Shelby passed it to her with the bottle opener and Santana set to working on it.

"I better not get arrested for contributing to a minor."

Santana laughed and eased the cork out, setting it aside so Shelby could hand her a glass. "No arrests, I promise."

"I have some handcuffs upstairs, though, if necessary," Shelby said coolly, trading a filled glass for the other empty one.

Santana choked on her sip of wine, almost spilling it as she coughed.

"I'm kidding!" Shelby said, laughing as she rescued the glass from Santana's hand, setting it aside.

"Hilarious," Santana said dryly. "Not that I would object," she added, cocking an eyebrow at Shelby.

"Duly noted. Now," Shelby said, popping open the top of one of the takeout containers, "what's for dinner?" She laughed, immediately passing the box to Santana.

Santana settled the container on her lap and picked up the cheeseburger. "I told you I got comfort food."

Shelby opened the other entrée-sized container, shaking her head. "It's perfect. Though I don't know how well cheeseburgers pair with red wine?"

"Beef is beef," Santana said with a shrug, chomping into the burger.

Shelby tilted her own cheeseburger toward Santana in a mock toast. "And wine is wine."

* * *

><p>"I think I need to take you up on that massage offer before you claim you're too tired," Santana said as she returned from the kitchen, having gotten rid of the remnants of dinner.<p>

"Don't worry, I'm good for it." Shelby split the last of the wine between their glasses. "Lie down. And lose the robe."

Santana untied her belt, but hesitated.

"What, suddenly modest?"

"Yeah right. Pull the curtains – I'm not giving the village a free show."

Shelby laughed and got up to draw the curtains over the large bay window.

Santana shed her robe and tossed it aside, smirking at Shelby's failure to mask her reaction upon turning around. "You know the only person I let see the ladies is my lady."

"Lucky me," Shelby said quietly. "Go ahead and lie down."

Santana twisted and turned to settle on her stomach, cheek against the floor, hair pulled to the side. She closed her eyes and waited. It was hard not to giggle – not that anything was particularly funny, but it was just so cliché: wine and a massage on a fuzzy blanket in front of a fireplace in a winter cottage. And she wouldn't change a thing.

She sensed Shelby above her, and then felt her a moment later as she settled against the backs of Santana's thighs. She couldn't feel terrycloth against her and she wondered if Shelby was still wearing her robe. She kept her eyes closed, electing to determine it solely through what she could feel. The thought made her pulse race a little.

"This might be a little cold."

She heard the creak, pop, and snap of a plastic lid. She knew the sound well – it was the travel-sized bottle of lotion Shelby perpetually kept in her purse and used multiple times per day. And then cool hands were pressing into her lower back, slowly gliding higher until fingers wrapped over shoulders, squeezing gently.

A sigh was the most Santana could manage. Shelby's hands moved slowly, zeroing in on the knot below her left shoulder blade. She really had tweaked something today, and the hot pain of it loosening was welcomed. Her massages were always magical, and this was no exception. In fact, it was more so, heightened by the fire, the wine, and…the bare breasts that were pressing into her back as lips grazed her neck. She had a fleeting moment of personal satisfaction that her suspicion was confirmed, and then it immediately vanished with a kiss to the shell of her ear.

Her pulse wavered, caught between excitement and extreme relaxation as she felt Shelby straighten again, her hands moving down Santana's left arm, working slowly until she was massaging her palm and fingers one at a time. She gave the same attention to Santana's right arm and returned to her back, but Santana felt her fingers creeping down her sides as they moved, first to tease the ticklish spot on her waist and then to caress the sides of her breasts.

She felt Shelby mold herself to her back again and lips traveled along her jaw, stopping at the corner of her mouth. Santana turned slightly and puckered her lips, satisfied with how quickly she was kissed. She relaxed her pout and tasted their wine as the tip of Shelby's tongue connected with hers.

Santana was torn between wanting to fall asleep and wanting to flip over and pin Shelby to ravish her. Shelby was resting heavily against her, though, and exerting that much energy just did not seem favorable. Instead she moaned just enough to convey her gratitude and dropped her cheek back to the blanket, breaking their kiss. Shelby continued it, though. It traveled down her neck, first to the left shoulder, then the right. Her arms were lifted and moved to lie comfortably above her head as Santana felt her shift lower, kisses trailing down the center of her back as hands grew less tentative and more suggestive, spending ample time at all her sensitive spots, but mostly along her hips. They slipped between Santana and the floor, the natural line of her body leaving just enough space. Fingertips traced the hollowed curves along her pelvis. They pulled just slightly and Santana pressed her chest down, lifting her hips as was requested. She felt Shelby change the angle of her hand, and then her touch trailed between Santana's legs as she pressed a kiss to the base of her spine.

Santana gasped, the direct contact flooding her senses. She resisted the urge to push her hips down into the touch and trap Shelby in place.

Shelby's hands moved back to her hips, pulling on the right just enough to encourage Santana to turn over. Shelby moved with her, still on her knees, straddling Santana's thighs. Santana kept her eyes closed – it had become her own little challenge, to completely give up her control or knowledge of what was to come next. She remembered there was a pillow somewhere within reach and she felt for it blindly, finding it after a few tries to pull it beneath her head.

She knew Shelby was still hovering over her; their legs had grazed when she stretched for the pillow. She experimented, bending her right knee slowly, feeling it trace along what she knew was Shelby's inner thigh until it found heat and she heard Shelby whimper. As soon as she found her, a hand was on her thigh pushing her leg back down.

Creak, pop, snap. This time the lotion was drizzled directly onto her stomach, and Santana gasped from the coldness. It lingered several seconds before warm hands moved through it, gliding along her abdomen, higher to her ribs, and higher still to her breasts. Her back arched slightly and the touch grew gentler, more teasing. She felt Shelby move and then the dancing red glow of the fire was no longer visible behind her eyelids. She could sense Shelby hovering above her and Santana wet her lips, hoping for a kiss that never came.

Instead, the kiss was delivered straight to her nipple, making Santana moan from the pleasant surprise. Shelby's soft hair fell against her chest, heightening the sensation even further as a tongue flickered and swirled against the sensitive flesh. She reached for Shelby and combed through her hair, letting it slip through her fingers as Shelby moved lower to kiss her stomach, muscles quivering from anticipation. Her tongue circled her navel and Santana felt hands on her thighs, easing them apart slowly.

She could sense Shelby moving back, could feel the familiarity that was her body lying between Santana's legs. Santana bent her right knee and felt it guided over Shelby's shoulder.

Santana held her breath. There was no telling how long Shelby would keep her waiting. She didn't mind waiting hours if she had to. As turned on as she was, she still never wanted this amazing moment to end. Shelby's hands were traveling her body slowly, one gliding along her thigh, the other up her stomach until it grazed the underside of a breast. It made Santana unconsciously slide herself lower, closer, and she felt Shelby's hand find hers as gentle lips pressed a kiss against the source of her desire.

Santana gripped her hand, doing all she could to remain in control of herself and completely out of control of the situation. She focused on her breathing, but then Shelby's tongue was trailing so painfully slowly along her that she allowed herself a moan of encouragement. It had the desired effect as she heard Shelby's quiet moan in response as she used more pressure and gradually quickened her pace, just enough to truly ignite Santana and hold her at the edge for as long as Shelby wanted.

By the feel of it, Santana realized, Shelby wasn't planning on ending it any time soon. She felt as though she was being turned inside out, but so slowly she could barely discern its progress. Shelby was back to teasing her, now that she had her teetering, and Santana groaned when she felt her tongue slip inside briefly. Shelby moaned, too, and Santana knew its tone – she was proud of the effect she was having on her. Santana didn't care. She should be proud. The things Shelby could make her feel should be illegal, and probably were in some parts of the world.

It was a pattern, Santana had determined. Fingernails would drag down her stomach, tongue would slip inside, shoulder would press her thigh back slightly, tongue would glide higher, lips would suckle. It continued until Santana had broken into a sweat, made that much hotter by the nearby fire. She could feel Shelby's back growing slick as well, her heel sliding against her more easily each time her knee was pressed back. She was panting, and writhing, and almost crying when the pattern finally broke, the suckling not ceasing this time.

Santana wanted to thank her but instead all she could do was moan and wait for it. It was so close, hovering just out of reach for what felt like an eternity, and she could feel it building ever more quickly as Shelby pushed the back of her thigh hard, her knee to her chest as she felt nothing but lips and tongue and the easy pressure of the fingers that slid into place deep inside her. It was all perfect and she found her release, body rolling with the pleasure that flowed from her head to her toes, all of it pulsating at her core.

Shelby was moaning, too, that same prideful one as earlier. Santana would be thanking her as soon as she could see straight again – she certainly deserved it. She finally reached for Shelby, tugging her hair gently to get her attention.

"Kiss me," Santana breathed, just beginning to calm.

Shelby was in her arms in a heartbeat and they locked themselves in a kiss that was wet and passionate and full of lust. Santana wedged her hand between them to find Shelby with her fingertips, barely able to reach her. Shelby moaned, this time wanton and desperate. Santana forced her head to the side to break the kiss, and Shelby's mouth immediately connected with her neck.

"Tell me what you want," Santana gasped. "I'll do anything."

She felt teeth against her skin. "Anything?"

"What do you want?"

Shelby seemed to ease their aggressive outburst, and Santana wondered if she was deciding what she wanted or trying to work up the courage to ask for whatever it was.

Suddenly Shelby was off her and sitting on her knees. "Turn."

Santana moved to roll back over but Shelby caught her by the wrist.

"I meant rotate. So your head's by the couch."

Santana wasn't going to question it. Their walls were down and there was zero room for judgment now. She turned and slid backwards until the top of her head was nearly even with the base of the couch. "Like this?"

"Yeah," Shelby said as she crossed the new distance between them to straddle Santana's hips again. She started to lean down to kiss her, but paused. "Don't worry, it's nothing we haven't done before." She quirked a quick smile before pressing a hard kiss to Santana's lips and sitting back up, working herself higher as Santana figured it out. This was nothing kinky or risqué. This was just Shelby's favorite.

"Needed something to hold onto?" she surmised, referring to the couch, as she wrapped her arms under Shelby's thighs to hold her hips. Shelby was tantalizingly close and painfully out of reach.

"No headboard," Shelby confirmed as she slid her hips forward, bringing herself right to Santana's mouth.

Santana groaned at the sensation. Shelby was just as aroused as she had been, and she pressed her tongue against her, tasting every inch until she felt Shelby tilt her hips closer. She zeroed in on the spot that caused that motion and Shelby moaned, leaning forward to support herself on the couch. Santana gripped her more firmly, pulling her closer as she coaxed each moan and whimper and curse out of Shelby. She mimicked the way Shelby had suckled her sensitive flesh and it made Shelby moan her name and reach down and tangle her fingers in Santana's hair, pulling almost too hard. Santana flicked her tongue quickly in response and then Shelby was gone, her hips bucking and pushing against Santana as she moaned. It went on and on and Santana eased her through it, massaging her gently until she finally calmed, reduced to a panting, collapsed heap, her forehead on her crossed arms on the edge of the couch.

She finally opened her eyes, able to meet Santana's through her crossed arms, though upside down. They were surprisingly clear and focused for the ordeal she had just been through. "Again."

Santana groaned. Sometimes they turned each other on to the point of it being obscene. So rare was the freedom to indulge for so long that Santana had nearly forgotten what it was like.

"Whatever you want. Just turn around first."

"But I need to lean forward," Shelby said as she turned.

"So lean forward, genius," Santana said with a snide laugh as she pressed on Shelby's lower back and parted her own legs.

She turned her attention back to what was in front of her – literally – and found renewed enthusiasm in the slightly new angle. She found even more enthusiasm when Shelby's tongue found its way back between her legs, too. She gripped Shelby's thighs, supporting her as her focus started breaking down. Santana's focus was starting to falter, too, and she stopped herself from pitching her hips up by instead parting her legs further. She moaned and Shelby echoed it, control and focus fading fast until Santana had to replace her mouth with her hand. Shelby even didn't seem to notice.

Santana couldn't and didn't wait. It was quick and powerful, and a moment later Shelby followed.

After a few seconds, Shelby rolled off to the right, landing on her back, panting and sweating. Santana was a mirror image as they lay head to toe.

"Christ," Shelby finally said.

Santana managed a laugh and tried to sit up, abs screaming as though she had done two hundred crunches that day. She finally made it upright, sitting alongside Shelby's hip. "You done?"

Shelby looked up at her and smiled. "For the moment."

"You're going to kill me one of these days."

"What, your youthful heart can't keep up with me?"

Santana shook her head and leaned forward, wincing a little, to grab one of the wine glasses and take a long drink. "Dehydration."

Shelby laughed wholeheartedly and rolled onto her side to hug Santana's leg for a minute before kissing her knee and working herself up into a sitting position. "Cheers to that," she said, drinking from the other glass.

Santana rested her glass against the top of her thigh, letting her free hand travel along Shelby's leg, just to touch. "We're so good together."

Shelby sipped her wine again, finishing the glass. "I agree."

"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we never happened? Where you would be? Who would be in your life?"

"Not really," Shelby said with a shrug. "I never would have ever allowed a student to come onto me the way you did that day. I figure if I let it happen so easily, it must have been meant to be. So, if it was meant to be, then there wouldn't be a possible alternative to consider."

Santana's heart swelled and she folded her legs so she could slide forward and kiss Shelby. "I love you so much," she said when they parted.

Shelby smiled and gave her one more little peck of a kiss. "I love you, too." A pause. "Why did you ask if I think about what it would be like without you? Do you think about us not being together?"

"No! No, of course not. I just meant I can't imagine my life being any different. I've tried to picture it, the alternative, and there's nothing there for me either."

Shelby set her empty glass aside and entwined her fingers with Santana's. "You had a plan, before we happened. You wanted to go off and become a star, and instead you got stuck in Lima."

"I'm not _stuck_ in Lima. I stayed to be with you. You just started a new life there. One of us had to bend if we wanted to be together. I didn't have a job and a child; it had to be me. I did it willingly. I haven't regretted it." Santana knew Shelby was getting at something. Hopefully it was whatever had been on her mind earlier. Hopefully it wasn't something bad.

"You wanted to move to New York."

"Doesn't everyone want to move to New York? You even did it."

"I did. It was amazing. Tough for me as a teen on my own, but it was great while it lasted."

"I know Broadway was your dream, but can I be selfish for a second and be grateful it didn't work out and you eventually came back?" She pressed a kiss to Shelby's shoulder and turned to rest her cheek against it, savoring their closeness.

"What if it was still my dream? Our dream?"

Santana straightened, meeting Shelby's eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I have an audition."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	9. A Winter Getaway, Part III

**A/N:** This is shorter than my usual chapters; my apologies. But I wanted to wrap this up to start thinking about the next. :)

* * *

><p>"I have an audition."<p>

Shelby's statement hung in the air between them. It wasn't that it was particularly groundbreaking news – Shelby always had auditions for various local and regional productions; it was the way she had prefaced it.

"In…New York?" Santana surmised.

"Yeah."

Santana didn't know how to feel. A wave of a hundred emotions washed over her. She wanted to cheer and cry and yell and hug and kiss and slap. "When?" she said, fighting not to grimace.

"In a few weeks, on the 26th."

"The day after Christmas?"

"Well, yes – "

Santana was angry. She pushed herself away from Shelby, suddenly feeling very exposed and weak. She wished her robe hadn't been kicked under the chair behind Shelby, painfully out of reach.

"You said we were spending Christmas together."

"I know – "

"And now you're leaving me? Going to New York? Are you taking Beth?"

Shelby laughed – which only pissed off Santana further – and crawled across the space Santana had created. Santana put her arms out to push her back but Shelby knocked them away and kept pressing forward until she had Santana on her back.

"Calm down."

Santana grit her teeth. "I'm calm." She felt Shelby try to slip her leg between hers and she tensed her thighs, blocking her. She wouldn't let herself be controlled by her vagina. For the moment.

"You went to your angry place before you heard me out." Shelby was dropping kisses along her neck and chest, and Santana stared at the ceiling, refusing to be weak.

"Well?"

"Well, first, you didn't let me say that I didn't even know about it until a bit ago."

"I knew you were keeping something from me." She felt teeth nip the swell of her breast and exhaled hard.

"Don't. I wasn't being malicious. Secondly, I'm flying out that morning and I'll be back the next day. We're still spending Christmas together. Thirdly…"

Shelby's sentence fizzled as Santana felt a tongue against her breast. Santana's determination fizzled, too, and she let herself be distracted long enough for Shelby's knee to finally slip between Santana's.

"Thirdly?" Santana said with a gasp as Shelby's thigh pressed against her. She glanced down just in time to see Shelby tug on the sensitive tip of her breast with her lips. It made her mouth water. She wanted Shelby to hurry up and finish this conversation about something she was caring less and less about with every touch. She had a fleeting thought she was supposed to be upset, but how could she be upset when Shelby's mouth was on her?

"Thirdly…" Shelby's tongue flickered against her nipple and then she suddenly looked up at Santana. "I…I don't remember…"

"Remember later," Santana said, her resolve breaking once and for all as she turned and pushed Shelby onto her back, covering her mouth with her own before anything else could be said. Shelby may have been intending to placate Santana, but all Santana could think about was placating Shelby again. And again. She was glad they were in a house of their own and not a thin-walled hotel.

Santana moved her kiss to Shelby's breast, giving it the same treatment hers had been given seconds earlier. She sucked and pulled and caressed until Shelby whimpered, "Please."

Santana moved off Shelby just enough to get her hand between them. She teased her for a moment, fingers gliding easily enough to let her slip inside without resistance. She fit her palm against Shelby and leaned into her, her thigh pushing against of the back of her hand. Shelby moaned immediately and Santana settled herself against Shelby's thigh, rocking her hips forward for both their benefit.

She wasn't hesitant about it. They had spent the better part of the evening being slow and tender. The adrenaline and panic and anger she had felt still lingered and it was starting to find its way out. She pushed herself up on her free arm, looking down at Shelby, her eyes closed, lips parted, eyebrows drawing closer together as Santana moved against her more roughly, jostling her with each thrust of her hips.

Shelby's right leg found its way around Santana's waist and she pushed harder, loving the way Shelby's voice trembled with her movements. It urged her on, and she forced her hips faster, her arm burning from supporting herself. She didn't care, though. All she cared about was watching Shelby's face in this moment.

"Jesus," she said, feeling consumed by the moment of raw passion.

Shelby's eyes fluttered open for a second, just long enough to meet Santana's as she mumbled, "Faster."

Santana didn't think she could move any more quickly, but she tried, and Shelby moaned appreciatively. Her moan didn't stop, though, and Santana felt her throbbing against her fingers, and fingernails digging into her hips, and Santana let her own pleasure overwhelm her, arm finally giving out as she fell against Shelby, their hips still lifting and pressing into each other sporadically.

They were both gasping for breath, and Santana considered that she should get off Shelby's chest to help her breathe, but the arms wrapped around her back told her otherwise.

They stayed locked together until their breathing had returned to normal and Shelby spoke, her voice echoing in Santana's ear pressed against her chest. "What was _that_?"

"I…got scared."

Shelby wiggled a little and Santana groaned as she pushed herself back up on her exhausted right arm to make a move to disengage herself, but she felt a hand grab her wrist. "Stay."

Her arousal started building again but she checked it, at least a little. "Don't make me talk about serious things when I have my fingers buried in your pussy."

The look of shock on Shelby's face was indescribable. "Santana!"

It wasn't as though they'd never talked dirty to one another before – Shelby could even make Santana blush when she really got into it. But as sexy and dirty as Shelby was in the heat of the moment, she couldn't handle it when she wasn't expecting it. Santana loved dropping it on her like that. It was fun seeing the steam come out her ears.

"What? You're the one who was begging me to go faster; to stay deep inside your hot, wet c– "

"Alright!" Shelby said, slapping a hand over Santana's mouth. "Stop distracting me."

"_You_ stop distracting _me_."

"Truce?"

Santana knew she could have Shelby completely distracted again in seconds, but they really had been having a serious conversation before, well…before _that._ "Alright, truce."

She started to pull back but Shelby stopped her again. "Please, just…stay."

Santana had to push the whereabouts of her hand far, far into the back of her mind as she settled next to Shelby.

"Why did you get scared?" Shelby prompted once Santana was still.

Santana frowned, having thought it obvious. "You're going to leave me."

"For a _day_, love."

"And what if you get the part?"

"We'll cross that bridge if we get to it."

"When. When we get to it. You know you're going to get it."

"You're so sweet."

"God, this is such a weird conversation to have when I'm…" She wiggled her fingers, making Shelby inhale sharply.

Shelby's hand covered Santana's, a silent request for her to stop. "I just want to feel close to you. So be serious, and be still."

Santana propped her head up on her fist to be able to look at Shelby more easily, her shoulder still aching. She focused on her eyes to forget about the physical connection. "Okay. So tell me about this audition. What's it for? What show?"

"A revival of _Gypsy._"

"Didn't they just do a revival?"

"They're doing another," Shelby said with a smile. "My old agent in New York heard about it and remembered I'd wanted the last one, but they passed on me. Said I was too young for Mama Rose and too old for Louise."

Santana returned the smile. "You're old enough now?"

Shelby shrugged. "Maybe. Anyway, he remembered how badly I wanted the show when he caught wind of the new production, so he made some calls. They're really just returning a favor for him by seeing me. But I'll take it."

"So this is like, a big show. Like, the real deal."

"It's the real deal." She paused. "Do you still want to move to New York? It's just an audition, but I really, really want this part."

"I'm happy being wherever you are."

Shelby smiled and reached over, holding her hand to Santana's cheek. "You'd just uproot your life like that?"

"You're my life." Santana knew it was corny, and she flinched when she said it. But it was true.

Shelby's smile broadened. "Then there's nothing to be afraid of."

Santana averted her eyes, self-conscious.

"It's okay," Shelby said with a laugh. "But what I don't understand is why being afraid of me leaving led to you f…screwing my brains out."

Santana dropped her head to Shelby's shoulder, feeling a tad sheepish. "I don't like being scared. It makes me angry. So…I was angry. And you were teasing me. And I was excited for you. It was a lot of things and I…"

"Lost control?"

"I guess I did."

"Kind of intense."

The tone of Shelby's voice made Santana lift her head to see her properly again. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Shelby said quickly. "I'm fine. I was just thinking about it."

Santana felt a smile creeping across her face. She moved her hand back a little, satisfied by the way Shelby's breathing hitched.

"Be gentle," Shelby whispered as she pulled Santana into a kiss.

* * *

><p>"Hiiiiii, Pookie," Santana cooed into her cell phone. "Tana misses you and loves you lots!" She waited, hearing nothing but Beth's excited breathing. She was on the verge of her first words – Santana was relieved the phone call wasn't to inform them they had missed the moment.<p>

"_You been tappin' that sweet ass?"_

"Ugh, Puckerman! Don't talk like that around her!"

"_Cool it, Snix. I know better than that; I'm in the hallway."_

"Good."

"_Well? You treating her right? Doing me proud?"_

Santana groaned, but she was smiling. Puck was pretty much the only person who ever dared to try to ruffle her feathers, aside from her brother. And Shelby. "Let's just say, we're both very satisfied."

"_Aww yeah, get it. You two are hot together. If you ever want a man – "_

"Ew, Puck, no. We don't want a man. That's the point. The novelty of my lady-loving ways really needs to wear off for you."

"_One lady is hot. Two ladies is hotter. Two hot ladies getting freaky is always going to be interesting to me."_

Santana rolled her eyes. "Fine. I gotta go, Shelby's begging me to take her to bed."

"_Damn. Don't leave her waiting."_ The line went dead.

As if on cue, Shelby walked out of the bathroom, face pink from having been freshly scrubbed. "Did I hear my name?"

Santana plugged her phone into the charger next to the bed. "Puck really needs to get over his crush on you."

Shelby scoffed. "Noah has a crush on me?"

"You must be blind. He was just drooling over all the wild sex he thinks we're having up here."

"And you assume he's drooling because of me?" Shelby said, laughing.

"Trust me, it is."

Shelby turned off the bedroom light, more than enough light from the moon pouring in through the sliding glass door to still see one another, and climbed into bed. "I really hope you didn't tell him about all the wild sex we're having up here."

"Not in detail, no." Santana slipped under the covers and right into Shelby's arms. She kissed her soundly. "I don't want this trip to end tomorrow. But I really miss our daughter."

Shelby pulled back a little, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "_Our _daughter?"

Santana hadn't even noticed what she said, and it took a moment to figure out what Shelby was questioning. When it clicked, she felt tears sting her eyes. "I – "

"Shh," Shelby said with a kiss. "She's our daughter."


	10. The Audition, Part I

**A/N: In case you didn't figure it out yet, I've rolled back all the stories/chapters of this plot line to all be part of the main Invincible, for the ease of readers following it. That said, enjoy!**

* * *

><p>The weeks leading up to Shelby's audition grew intense. Santana saw her slipping into what she could only label as "performance mode." She knew Shelby could be strict when it came to preparing for a performance, but she was growing downright militant.<p>

5:00 am – 3-mile run on the treadmill  
>6:00 am – Shower with a concurrent vocalization session<br>7:00 am – A balanced breakfast straight out of a cereal commercial  
>7:20 am – Out the door to work<br>6:15 pm – Home, and dinner should be ready and waiting  
>9:30 pm – Bed<p>

Santana felt like they barely saw each other. In reality, they had only lost a few hours to the adjusted sleep schedule, but it felt much more significant. Santana tried to adjust her sleep cycle to match, but more often than not, she was the one up late or in the middle of the night with Beth. She knew how badly Shelby wanted to land the role and she would do everything in her limited power to help her accomplish that. Santana was the one up at 3:00 am when Beth awoke for no reason, the one taking her to and from her part-time day care, and the clinic when she came down with an earache.

As she sat in the waiting room that afternoon with a screaming 18-month-old in her lap, she struggled to comprehend this is what her life had become: diapers and doctor visits and packing snacks for the class and cooking dinner every night. She wouldn't trade it for anything, but when she was woken at six-in-the-morning every day by Shelby singing scales or some jazzy tune, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy.

Shelby knew her, and she had been right that night at the winter lodge. Santana wanted to move to New York City and be a big star, and she was on the sidelines, being the water boy. But when Beth finally settled down and started dozing off, little fingers gripping Santana's shirt as though life depended on it, she really knew she wouldn't trade it for anything.

She loved their life.

Not that she would mind the opportunity to perform now and then….or maybe just the chance to make love to her girlfriend again. She was grateful for their getaway, and had to cling to the memories. There was no allotted time in Shelby's strict schedule for sex. Nights were for sleep and showers were for cleansing and soothing vocal cords. She promised Santana that after the audition, things would return to normal.

"Go," Santana said as Shelby hovered in the doorway, a small rolling suitcase waiting in the hall.

"Are you sure you'll be okay by yourself?"

Santana glanced back at Beth sitting on the floor, setting off the lights and sounds of one of her many new colorful electronic toys she had received Christmas morning. "I think I can handle her for one night."

Shelby's smile was apologetic and she pulled Santana into a hug. "Thank you for supporting me in this. I know it hasn't been easy."

Santana felt herself melt in Shelby's arms. Even a proper hug was hard to come by lately. "I didn't do all this for nothing, so you better get that damn role."

Shelby hugged Santana closer. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"You can tell me anything."

"I'm so scared right now."

Santana leaned back enough to look at Shelby. Either Shelby was good at hiding her emotions or Santana hadn't noticed the apprehension in her eyes until that moment. She cupped Shelby's face in her hands, brushing her thumbs across her cheeks. "You'll be amazing. You _are_ amazing."

Shelby looked unsure whether to laugh or cry.

"And so help me God if you put me through your insanity for nothing, I swear –"

Shelby's bubbly laugh cut her off and suddenly Santana was being kissed. If hugs were rare, proper kisses were downright scarce. Sure, there were quick pecks as Shelby ran out the door in the morning and came home, and if Santana was particularly lucky, she could coax one out of Shelby after going to bed, if she happened to wake up. After all, kisses spread germs, and Santana spent every day with a toddler who played with other children. She was a germ magnet. Santana was familiar with Shelby's position on the matter – Rachel had rambled about the same annoying germophobia before glee competitions, and _damn_ did she hate that it was making her sympathize with Finn. When their tongues grazed, Santana nearly fainted – not from excitement, but from shock. It had been so long, she had nearly forgotten what it was like.

"We're clear of the cold virus incubation window," Shelby said with a grin after pulling back.

Santana's heart was pounding. She really, really missed the physical side of their relationship. She needed it to be tomorrow, and she needed it to be tomorrow quickly. "You better go so you don't miss your flight."

"Okay," Shelby said, pressing one more kiss to Santana's lips. "Love you."

"I love you, too."

"I'll call you when I'm checked in and everything. Remember what you promised."

Santana rolled her eyes but smiled. "I will send you a photo every hour, on the hour, until you're back. Now hurry up and leave so you can come home."

Shelby hesitated, peering over Santana's shoulder at Beth.

"Just go while she's distracted so she doesn't have a breakdown seeing you leave."

"Kiss her for me."

"I will." Santana started closing the door, just enough to force Shelby to back up. "Now please go so I don't sit here worrying that you'll get caught in a surprise blizzard and get stranded along I-75 and miss your flight and your audition and your role."

"Okay, okay, I'm going!" Shelby finally took up the handle on her suitcase and spun it so it would roll behind her. "I'll call you."

"Drive safe. Oh – hey babe?"

Shelby paused a few steps away, at the top of the stairs, and glanced back. "Yeah?"

"Break a leg!"

* * *

><p>Santana's day without Shelby was unsurprisingly uneventful. Beth had more than enough new toys, most of which hadn't even been removed from their packaging yet, to keep her easily occupied for days. Santana kept her word. Promptly at 8:00 am she snapped a photo of the toddler focused intently on trying to pull one of the levers out of its base. She sent the photo to Shelby, knowing she wouldn't receive a reply for a while as she was somewhere between Lima and Dayton.<p>

A reply came about an hour later. _"I miss her."_

_"I miss you."_

"_In security line brb." _A few seconds later, _"Don't let her break that."_

Santana rolled her eyes, but made a mental note to stop Beth if she tried yanking that piece off again. _"Yes ma'am."_

Shelby's reply was a tiny graphic icon: a pair of handcuffs.

Santana felt her whole body flush with heat and she exited their text conversation, calling her immediately. Shelby answered by laughing.

"Don't tease me like that," Santana growled into the phone. She felt like a hormonal teenager – well, she _was_ a hormonal teenager, but even more so than usual.

"You said, 'Yes ma'am.' If you're going to call me ma'am, I get to be in charge. Don't think I've forgotten the look on your face that night when I said I had 'cuffs in my bag."

Santana groaned. "This really isn't fair. You withhold it for like three weeks, leave, and then start flirting. Do you have any idea how much I've been wanting you?"

"I'd ask you to explain it to me in detail, but I don't think the middle of Dayton International Airport is the best place for me to listen to you telling me."

"I could do it anyway. It would be fair to make you just as frustrated as I've been."

Shelby was quiet and Santana wondered if she was actually going to go along with it. But instead, "Save your words and show me when I get home."

Their chat grew ordinary. Shelby's flight was on time. She had a window seat. She would be spending the flight getting into character. She had three hours to get from the airport to her audition. She would call as soon as she was finished. Santana would remember to send her hourly photos.

By the time they hung up, Shelby was boarding and it was Beth's naptime. She went to sleep easily and Santana took a photo of her in her crib to save it for the next picture obligation. She set a reminder in her phone to go off hourly and curled up on the couch, opting for it over the bed to enjoy the Christmas tree and its lights.

At ten o'clock, she sent the photo, squinting at her phone with one eye. At eleven o'clock, she sent photo of herself "sleeping" on the couch. At noon, their messy spaghetti lunch. And so on, until Santana opted to skip the three- and four o'clock photos. Shelby's audition was at four o'clock and Santana chose to let her focus on her task rather than distract her or make her phone interrupt her audition – not that Shelby would ever be so unprofessional as to allow her cell phone to ring in an audition.

Instead, Santana paced. She used giving Beth a ride on her shoulders as the excuse, but she knew she would have been pacing anyway. Minute after minute ticked by until it was nearly five o'clock, and her phone finally rang. Santana swung Beth down to her hip and scrambled for her phone, having to swipe at the screen three times before successfully connecting the call.

"You haven't sent me a photo in three hours."

"Shut up and tell me about your audition."

"Personally, I think they would be morons not to cast me."

Santana laughed. Sometimes she forgot just who Shelby Corcoran was. When they were their little family, Shelby was just Shelby – her partner, her lover, her other half, the mother to the daughter that felt like her own. Her self-confidence was far less obvious at home. Santana hadn't witnessed Shelby in true working mode in months, let alone this intense self-promoting version. She could see how off-putting it could be to someone who lacked his or her own confidence. Thankfully, Santana was not lacking in self-confidence and she found Shelby's intensity endearing and ever more attractive.

"So I take it it went well?"

"Like I said."

"When will you know?"

"I should know within the week, and callbacks are in two weeks."

Santana could hear the noise of New York City in the background. Horns honking and sirens and someone shouted something in a foreign language seemingly directly into Shelby's phone and her ear. "Do you want to tell me about it? Or wait 'til you get home?"

"I'm actually on my way to meet a friend for dinner and a show. Call you tonight?"

"What friend?"

"An old girlfriend. We worked together at an ice cream shop when I used to live here."

Santana bristled. "You're meeting up with an ex-girlfriend?"

"Not an ex-girlfriend," Shelby said with a slightly patronizing tone to her voice. "I meant 'girlfriend' as in 'female friend'."

"You swear?"

"Honey, she is as straight as they come. Trust me."

Santana didn't know why or how Shelby knew just how straight this woman was, and she wasn't sure she particularly wanted to know. She chose blissful ignorance over irrational jealousy. "I trust you. Call me?"

"As soon as I'm in for the night. It might be a bit late."

"I won't mind."

"Okay, I will. Is my pun'kin close?"

Santana kissed the top of Beth's head and hummed the affirmative before moving her phone to Beth's ear. "Go ahead."

Santana tilted her head to keep her own ear close to the phone to listen to Shelby tell her – _their_ – daughter how much she loved and missed her.

"Can mommy talk to Santana now, please?" Shelby said after a million _I love you_s.

Santana giggled and reclaimed the phone. "It's me."

"I should go. I'm that jackass tourist not paying attention to where she's walking because she's blabbing on her cell phone."

"Okay. You'll call tonight?"

"If you resume sending me my hourly photos."

"Deal. I love you."

"I love you, too, baby. Bye."

Santana's phone went silent and on cue, Beth started straining to be set down. She kept her promise and snapped a photo as she ran away, immediately sending it to Shelby. Her phone chimed a moment later, an emoticon heart the reply.

* * *

><p>Santana was asleep when her phone ringing startled her awake. She fumbled for it where she had left it on Shelby's empty pillow, squinting at the bright screen to answer it.<p>

"Hi," she said, voice groggy.

"I woke you up; I'm sorry."

"'S'okay." Santana cleared her throat. "How was dinner?"

"It was fun to catch up. There were peas in my salad, though."

Santana snorted. "Aw, poor baby." Shelby hated peas as much as she hated poor work ethic.

"Not even in the pod so I could easily avoid them! So disappointed."

"Glad you survived. What did you see? You said you were going to a show."

"_Avenue Q._"

Santana could almost hear Shelby rolling her eyes. "Oh God."

"Well it certainly wasn't _my_ choice. I still don't see how it deserved the Best Musical Tony."

It was Santana's turn to roll her eyes. Shelby had a very clear opinion on what should have won the Best Musical Tony Award in 2004, and _Avenue Q_ was not it. Santana didn't want this to turn into another rant – she wouldn't be able to stay awake for it. "At least you got to spend time with your friend. That's what matters."

"You're right," Shelby said with a sigh.

"Tell me about the audition."

That got Shelby's mind off the musical's inferiority. She launched into a recount of her afternoon – the waiting, the others waiting with her, her personal opinions of each of their talents (or lack thereof), her own vocal perfection and the positive reception those holding the casting session gave her.

Santana fought to stay awake. Shelby rambling on and on was working on her like a lullaby. At some point her body jolted her back to semi-consciousness. She hoped she wasn't snoring, but Shelby was still talking, apparently not noticing Santana's silence.

"…and then I'd tease it until you begged me to give you more."

The words finally registered with Santana and her eyes snapped open. "What?"

Shelby chuckled. "You fell asleep."

"No, I'm awake; keep going."

"Go to sleep, sweetie. I'll show you what you missed tomorrow."

"Fine," Santana resigned herself quickly. She was really tired. It had been a long day of toddler-chasing.

"You should call Quinn or Noah in the morning. Ask them if they want to babysit for a few hours in the evening."

The suggestive tone Shelby was using would have ignited Santana if she had the energy. Instead, all she managed was, "M'kay."

Shelby laughed again. "Go to sleep. I should be home by one."

"Miss you."

"I miss you, too. Goodnight."

"Night."

Santana dropped her phone somewhere in the bedding and rolled over, exhaustion pulling her right to sleep.


	11. The Audition, Part II

**A/N:** What you've been waiting for - Shelby comes home.  
><strong>AN #2:** Thank you for all your comments! They're all appreciated and encouraging. :)

* * *

><p>It seemed to take ages for one o'clock to arrive. Santana had been up with Beth since shortly after five and had tried to pass the time by cleaning the entire condo, by finger painting, by re-cleaning the kitchen after their finger painting, by jogging two miles on the treadmill during <em>Sesame Street<em>, by making lunch and cleaning the kitchen _again_ while she called Puck to ask him to babysit at his place for a few hours so she and Shelby could "reunite." Of course, he agreed immediately. Santana knew he would if she hinted that she was looking for some quality alone time. He was a good guy friend, even if he was a horndog. Giving Beth a bath and dressing her in one of the new outfits she had picked out for the holidays passed another thirty minutes.

She killed the last hour by showering while Beth scooted around the bathroom on a plastic pony with wheels. Since she had the time, she spent it drying and styling her hair, flat ironing it and clipping it to the side. She even broke out her mascara and lip color for the first time in weeks. She had gotten lazy with herself in light of taking on more domestic responsibilities and now felt a tad guilty about all the times she judged those women at the grocery store in yoga pants with messy hair and circles under their eyes. Now she understood them, and it was nice to dress up a little. She was in jeans and a heather grey sweater, but they were dark washed skinny jeans and the sweater was cashmere – a gift from Shelby she had opened yesterday – and her lingerie was satin.

She didn't really know why she felt compelled to put the extra effort into her appearance. Shelby had only been gone for a day. But there was something mildly exhilarating about looking nice just for the person she loved upon her return. She contemplated whether or not there was enough time to mix up a batch of chocolate chip cookies to have baking in the oven, but it made her feel a bit too much like Cher from _Clueless_, so she settled for lighting the apples-and-cinnamon candle Shelby had brought home last week – a gift from one of her voice students.

It was pushing one-thirty when Shelby texted her from the garage asking Santana to unlock the front door. Unduly excited, Santana pulled on a pair of black heels that hadn't seen the light of day in weeks and scooped up Beth to sit on her hip on her way to the door. She flipped the locks and stepped into the hall to wait.

When Shelby finally made it to the last landing, Santana couldn't stop her grin. Shelby hadn't noticed them yet, focusing on making it up the last six stairs with her suitcase in one hand and a Lima Bean cup in the other.

"Welcome home."

Shelby looked up, her face lighting up immediately. "My girls."

Santana walked the few steps to meet her at the top of the stairs, bouncing Beth a little until she reached for Shelby. Santana traded the toddler for the coffee cup and suitcase, watching Shelby greet her daughter by covering her with kisses that made her giggle and strain to get away, but as soon as Shelby eased up, Beth nuzzled her face into her shoulder, holding on tightly.

Shelby's attention shifted to Santana, who was helping herself to Shelby's caramel latte. It was still hot; she must have stopped on the way home.

"Don't drink my caffeine."

"Just a taste," Santana said with a smile. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." Shelby leaned forward, kissing Santana gently. "You look so nice."

Santana plucked at her expensive sweater and tossed her hair. "What, this old thing? Just something I found lying around."

"I have good taste. How's it look from the back?" Shelby had an eyebrow arched. Santana liked this game. They had learned to be creative with their flirtations when an alert toddler was present. They were never grossly inappropriate, of course. It was fun to be subtle.

"I'll let you be the judge." Santana pulled the handle up on Shelby's suitcase and turned, walking back to their door, making sure to add a little more swing to her hips than usual.

She took Shelby's suitcase to their bedroom, stealing another drink of her coffee when she was out of eyesight. When she returned, Shelby was on the couch with Beth tipped nearly upside down from her lap. Santana forgot about their little game and joined them on the couch, sitting sideways to watch them play.

"The place looks great. Everything go okay?" Shelby had paused between sentences to lean down and kiss Beth's tummy, making her giggle again.

"Yeah, everything was fine." Santana felt warm as she watched them play. It wasn't due to the thermostat being too high or her sweater, or even her excitement that Shelby was home. It was deep, internal, emotional warmth. She was…purely happy.

"What?" Shelby asked with a coy smile.

"What do you mean, 'what'?"

"You're staring. Ahh, no no no, we don't pull hair," Shelby said as she leaned toward Beth and worked on prying her fingers off her hair.

"I'm just…really glad you're home."

Shelby reached over and squeezed Santana's knee. "Me, too. A-plus, by the way."

Santana tilted her head, confused.

"You looked just as good going as you did coming."

Santana gasped, knowing her reaction to the innocuous comment would freak her out.

"Oh my God! No, I didn't mean…I meant…oh God." She looked down at Beth as though she would be equally horrified by her unintentional pun. "Lalalalala, you didn't hear anything. Lalalalala."

Santana laughed and scooted closer to the two so she could put her arm around Shelby comfortably. "Freudian slip?"

Shelby was still blushing. "Apparently I've had something on my mind. I can't believe I said that."

Santana wiggled her fingers under Shelby's hair to rub her neck. "She won't know that word has double-meaning for at least ten more years. I don't think you've scarred her for life."

"I know, I know. You know we just try to be careful."

"And I think we do a pretty good job. I don't think we really have to start worrying until the first time she walks in on us."

Shelby groaned. "I'm still haunted by the memories of seeing my parents."

Santana made a face. She really didn't want to imagine Shelby's parents having sex, but she supposed she brought it upon herself with the topic. She would change it. Slightly.

"Puck is going to pick her up around five." She said it with an airy tone and a nonchalant fingernail down the side of Shelby's neck. She felt her shiver.

Shelby glanced at Santana's lips before looking back at Beth. "You get to see your Noah tonight. Are you excited?" Beth clapped her hands. "Mama's excited, too. Yes she is."

Santana laughed at the voice Shelby was using. Her emotions were a jumbled mess. Shelby as a mother was incredibly sexy, but she felt wrong thinking that way. She wanted Beth to magically fall asleep right now so they could put her in her room to let Santana show Shelby just how much she's missed her the last few weeks, and yet she wanted to watch them play pat-a-cake all night.

They had been together for months, Santana realized, and she still could be caught off-guard by her own feelings. She wondered if it was normal. She wondered if it's what true love really was. Had she been in love before? Of course she had. But never would she have imagined the levels of attraction she felt just by watching Shelby interact with Beth. It made her feel oogy and weird, but something about it made her heart and stomach flutter like she was falling in love all over again.

"I love you," Santana blurted, a bit lacking of the usual grace that came with the statement.

Shelby let Beth off her lap and swatted her behind to send her tottering away to be able to side sideways on the couch, mirroring Santana's position. "I love you, too," she said, a hint of a laugh in her voice, having caught the urgent tone. "You okay?"

Santana nodded. "Yeah. I just…sometimes…" She cut herself off, leaning forward to kiss Shelby, fully, properly. She framed Shelby's face with her hands, holding her there as she tried to channel every feeling, every emotion, every ounce of passion and love into a single kiss. She knew it would take thousands to ever convey it all. Perhaps millions. She didn't pull back until she heard the faintest of whimpers from Shelby.

"Wow. Okay," Shelby said, a little short of breath.

"Uh huh," Santana replied, feeling lightheaded.

"So, what do you want to do 'til five o'clock?"

Santana brushed her thumb along Shelby's lower lip, letting her kiss it before dropping her hands back to her lap.

"Tell me about New York."

By four o'clock, Santana's heels were off and things had begun to settle back to normalcy. But when Shelby pushed to her feet from her spot on the floor where she had been helping Beth figure out some fancy new toy, saying she was going to go take a shower to wash off the travel, they were reminded of what they were waiting for.

It was a miracle Santana didn't burst into tears when their doorbell rang fifteen minutes early. Shelby was still in a towel last Santana [agonizingly] noticed, so she pulled the bedroom door closed before opening the front door.

"Thank you," she said upon opening the door, Puck's knowing smile greeting her.

"Hey, I gotta do what I can to help my lezbro get laid."

Santana rolled her eyes but replied, "Seriously, thank you."

"Besides, I'm not gonna turn down time with my little boo. Where is she?"

"In her room. I'll go get her, make yourself at home." Santana left Puck in the foyer to shoo Beth out of her room, a task that was more taxing than it needed to be, so she opted to pick up the little girl and carry her, a small backpack of a few babysitting supplies in her other hand.

"There's my munchkin!" Puck said when they returned. Santana noticed Beth's eyes light up in recognition and it made her smile. Their family unit sure was nontraditional, but if Beth was happy, it was all that really mattered.

Santana passed her to Puck, the toddler immediately grabbing for his mohawk, latching on and pulling. Puck laughed and growled at her playfully.

"That's where she's learning that! Don't encourage her to pull hair, you moron," Santana said, kicking his shin.

Puck laughed but listened, wiggling her hands off his hair to turn her around in his lap, her back to his stomach. "Fine."

"What is going on out here?"

Puck looked up and Santana turned, both of them gawking. Santana felt Puck's elbow jab into her side, and she turned, punching his shoulder.

"Hey! No hitting," Shelby said, taking a few quick strides across the room to pick up the girl and whisper what were probably comments about being nice to people and hitting being bad.

Shelby (and Beth) had their backs turned, and Puck was still staring so Santana punched his shoulder again. "Damn, Satan. Lay off."

"_You_ lay off." Santana grabbed his chin, forcing his head to turn from where his eyes had been glued to Shelby's ass. She didn't know where that wine-colored blouse and those high-waist black slacks came from, but she sent her silent gratitude to the designers. She doubted it possible for more flattering pants to exist.

"So, you beautiful ladies going to Breadstix?"

Shelby turned, and Santana was glad Puck had managed to stop drooling. "No, we're staying in this evening. Would you mind calling before you come back? Just in case we do decide to go out and lose track of the time."

"Sure, no prob." Puck waited until Shelby had looked away before he waggled his eyebrows at Santana.

"Are you ready to go play at Noah's?" Shelby asked Beth, retrieving her tiny coat from the nearby coat closet. She set the girl down to tuck her arms into the sleeves and zipped it before pulling mittens over her hands. "Be a good girl."

Santana handed Puck the backpack, urging him to take his leave. "Make sure you try both our phones if the one doesn't answer. We might not hear it ringing."

Shelby straightened from her crouch and gave Santana a look that told her to shut up, but Santana could only smile in response.

"Okay, come on, Booger," he said, scooping her into his arms. "Let's let your two gorgeous mamas enjoy their evening." Puck winked at Shelby, and Shelby looked away, cheeks burning.

"Thank you, Noah," Shelby managed, unable to meet his eyes.

Santana walked him to the door, following him into the hall to pull the door almost closed behind them. "I owe you big time," Santana said quietly.

"No you don't," Puck replied. "You two deserve a break now and then." His tone was sincere and Santana smiled.

"Remember to call first."

Puck laughed. "I will."

"Bye. Bye, Smoochy!" Santana added with a finger bop to Beth's nose.

When Santana returned, she was startled by Shelby's hand catching her wrist before she was even completely through the doorway. She was pulled through, the door slamming closed behind her before she was backed into it. The two deadbolts clicked mechanically into place and Santana let her head tip back against the wooden door to look up at Shelby.

"He knows what we're doing, doesn't he," Shelby said, her hands on Santana's waist, fingers already slipping under the edge of her sweater.

"Yes," Santana said, her pulse already speeding up. She wanted to reach for Shelby, but her arms felt too heavy.

"Did you tell him?" There was the tiniest glint of danger in Shelby's eyes. It made Santana's knees weak.

"Not…explicitly," she said, shivering as Shelby's hands moved along her lower back under her sweater, easing her hips away from the door slightly.

Shelby smiled and leaned close, her lips brushing the edge of Santana's ear. "What did you tell him?"

Santana bit her lip. Shelby was the queen of teasing when she wanted to be. She really hoped she wouldn't tease her all evening. "I said we needed time to reunite."

"Then let's reunite."

Santana moaned into Shelby's kiss. It was slow, and sensual, and deep, and gave her enough motivation to reach up and run her hands through Shelby's hair. She pushed away from the door with her shoulders and forced Shelby backwards to get to the bedroom as quickly as she could. For being so calculated seconds earlier, Shelby's hands were now roaming freely, as were Santana's, and Santana knew exactly where she wanted hers to be. She ran them down Shelby's back, right to her ass that looked so perfect in those pants.

When Shelby bumped into the bed she made a move to sit, but Santana wrapped her arms around her waist to stop her and then took a step back. She started unbuttoning Shelby's blouse, stopping when the buttons disappeared under the high waist of the pants. She whistled at the expensive lace bra that she revealed. It was definitely new, too.

"You like?" Shelby asked.

"Gorgeous," Santana said, mesmerized as she slipped her hands into the opened shirt, fingers tracing the pattern of the lace over Shelby's breasts, drawing a quiet moan from her. Santana felt hands on her waist undoing her jeans and her heart raced, eager to move things along, but she checked herself, knowing they had plenty of time. Those same hands ran along under her loosened jeans before disappearing. She was so focused on the intricate lace pattern that she didn't notice Shelby's hands working below her own, undoing the twin buttons on her pants and then finishing the rest of those on her blouse.

Santana's chin was lifted and she was pulled back into a kiss, one growing increasingly demanding. Realizing Shelby's shirt was open, she slid her hands up to her shoulders to push it back and off. She moved automatically to the bra clasp, but hesitated, opting to leave it on to see if she had bought a matching set.

Shelby's hands were under her sweater again, pulling it up until Santana lifted her arms to let her take it off completely, forced to break their kiss. The move dislodged the clip in her hair and Shelby carefully removed it, tossing it onto the nearby dresser. She smoothed Santana's mussed hair, a gentle smile gracing her plump lips.

"So pretty," she said as she moved her hands to Santana's face, framing it a moment before letting them drift lower, meandering down her shoulders, slowing as they moved over her breasts long enough to make Santana bite back a moan, down her stomach and around to her hips to grasp the waist of her jeans, working the tight denim lower.

"Should have worn a dress," Santana joked, wiggling to help them down her thighs.

"I don't mind working a little for it." Shelby sat down on the edge of the bed to push them off the rest of the way, Santana hating herself for wearing skin-tight denim for this. What was she thinking?

They were finally clear of her feet and Santana kicked the troublesome garment aside just as Shelby pressed a kiss below her navel. The rush that came with the sensation made Santana wobble and she grabbed Shelby's shoulders to steady herself. Once she regained her balance, she slid her palms along her shoulders to her neck, holding her softly. Shelby's hands were traveling up and down her thighs, her kisses covering a lot of territory on Santana's abdomen. Just when Santana was ready to ask for more, Shelby stood up again.

Shelby bent slightly, bringing one foot up to pull off one heel and then the other before hooking her thumbs into the sides of her slacks, which were barely staying up on their own.

"Do you want to take them off?" Shelby asked, hesitating.

Santana shook her head, unable to take her eyes off Shelby's pants, desperately wanting to see what was under them. "You can."

Shelby pushed her slacks over hips and they fell to the floor. Santana reached for her immediately, hands on her waist for a moment before wandering lower to trace the edges of the slight piece of black lace.

"These are new."

"They are."

"I don't really want to take them off."

"So don't."

Santana felt a growl in the back of her throat and she leaned in to recapture Shelby's lips, letting her fingers trace the intricate design lower, slowing when the thin fabric betrayed just how turned on Shelby was. They both moaned, Santana teasing her, touching her ever so lightly.

"I need to sit. Or lie down," Shelby said between kisses.

Santana nodded. "Lie down."

They moved together, a little awkward as neither wanted to relinquish their kiss as Shelby worked her way backwards up the bed, Santana following on her knees until their pillows were under Shelby's head. Santana supported herself, hands sinking into the mattress on either side of Shelby, their kiss their only physical connection. Her elbows almost gave out when Shelby's hand pressed between her legs, her wide stance making it easy.

She twisted away and moved a few inches backwards, enough to be out of Shelby's reach and to trail kisses down her chest, starting at her collarbone and ending in the valley between her breasts. She had two choices and she chose the left, teasing the sensitive tip of Shelby's breast through the delicate lace with her tongue. Santana glanced up at her to see Shelby's head turned to the side, eyes closed, repeatedly biting her lower lip. When Shelby's hand moved to her unattended breast, Santana pushed her aside and gave it equal treatment.

Santana felt Shelby's hips twisting beneath her and she decided to stop teasing so much. She moved off Shelby, lying down next to her where Shelby immediately pulled her into a kiss. Santana rested her hand on Shelby's abdomen focusing on their kiss until Shelby pulled back.

"Please touch me," Shelby breathed before resuming it, begging Santana with the passion of her kiss.

The request and the tongue playing with her own made Santana groan and she turned her wrist, sliding her hand straight down over the slick lace. Shelby moaned her appreciation. The assuredly expensive piece of lingerie might as well have been invisible for all either of them cared. Santana pressed her fingers against Shelby firmly, holding still until Shelby thrust her hips upwards. She moved slowly, working into an unhurried but steady rhythm.

Shelby abandoned their kiss, needing to breathe more deeply. Santana rested her cheek on the pillow, content with watching Shelby's face as she pressed harder and moved a little faster. Shelby's right arm was pinned between them, but that didn't stop her from working to wedge her hand between Santana's thighs, painfully lower than Santana wanted her to be, but it was about Shelby right now. Shelby's other hand ran up Santana's arm, holding her elbow briefly before following her forearm down to her hand, fingers weaving between Santana's to double her efforts.

Santana sat up just enough to look down at their entwined fingers, the eroticism sending a wave of heat through her. "Fuck," she whispered, unable to restrain the desire to press harder, to move faster.

Shelby moaned, loudly, and Santana propped herself up on her bent elbow to give herself better leverage and to watch it play out in Shelby's features. Her eyebrows would draw close and then shoot up as though surprised. She kept licking her lips and pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. Her mouth would twitch into a smile and then fall slack as she moaned. She felt Shelby move their hands lower, curling their fingers. She twisted her wrist slightly, enough that she could get her pinky and ring fingers under the thin piece of lace, moving it out of the way just as Shelby pushed their hands the last few centimeters, guiding the tips of their middle fingers just barely inside. Santana took over for a moment and Shelby let her, easily pressing them deeper.

Santana closed her eyes. It felt awkward but perfect. She wondered how it felt for Shelby – no different than when it was only Santana's? Or her own? All Santana knew is that it was one of the sexiest things she had ever experienced. She felt pressure on the back of her hand and she pressed the heel of her hand against Shelby, hard, and received a moaned "Yes" in return. There was a push and pull on her hand and she followed Shelby's lead, easing them back into a coordinated rhythm.

When opened her eyes, she was surprised that Shelby was looking up at her, though she was struggling to focus. She held Shelby's gaze for a moment before leaning down and kissing her. She made it a point not to kiss away her breath, giving her ample opportunities to gasp for air as Santana took over dictating their pace, speeding up bit by bit until every exhale came with some jumble of affirmations and curses, until all Shelby did was moan, until she fell silent, back arching, the nails of her trapped hand digging into Santana's thigh.

Santana nearly lost it just from Shelby's experience. Her body was throbbing and she really, really hoped Shelby would be up for reciprocating. Quickly. Her arm grew tired of supporting herself so she laid back down, pressing herself closer to Shelby, the frenzy of the last few seconds having inadvertently pushed them apart. She kissed Shelby's shoulder, trying her hardest to be patient.

Finally, Shelby eased their hands back and detangled their fingers. Santana shook her hand out, flexing her knuckles that had grown a tad sore. She was still distracted by working out the pricks of pain when Shelby shifted and rolled Santana onto her back, covering her mouth with a long, languid kiss. The hand that had been trapped between her legs was no longer trapped, and it ran right up the inside of her thigh to press against the ache that had been neglected for far, far too long.

Santana whined through their kiss. She knew she would be done in a matter of seconds, but she wanted to actually _feel_ Shelby, and her panties were not nearly as barely-there as Shelby's had been. She groped for Shelby's hand, grabbing it to guide it under them and right back to where it had been, just without the rude piece of satin separating them.

Shelby smiled through their kiss. Santana didn't care if she was being smug. Yes, she wanted her. Yes, she needed her. Yes, she drove her crazy with desire. The sensation of Shelby finally touching her after so long made Santana choke back a sob.

Shelby noticed it and her arrogance disappeared and was replaced with gentility, letting her kisses drift from Santana's lips to her cheek, to her ear, down to her neck as she caressed her tenderly.

"Please," she whimpered, pushing hard on Shelby's hand. "I need you."

In a heartbeat the gentility was gone. Oh, she was still gentle, but her fingers pressed firmly and moved quickly, the sudden change making Santana groan. She was brought to the edge in second, and she felt a tongue tracing the shell of her ear.

"Come for me."

It was whispered so quietly she barely heard it, but it registered and her body reacted immediately, abs clenching as she tried to fold into herself and around Shelby as bliss flashed through her like lightning. She managed to find the back of Shelby's neck and she pulled her down, letting their kiss muffle her moaning as the pleasure ebbed and flowed.

When she couldn't breathe anymore she tore her mouth away, Shelby's kiss moving to her neck. Santana squeezed her thighs together, never wanting to let Shelby go. They stayed locked that way until Santana had come down fully, and she lifted her knee enough to let Shelby reclaim her hand.

"God damn, I missed you," Santana said, still a bit winded.

Shelby laughed and rolled onto her back, letting her hand fall into Santana's upturned palm. "I was only gone for a day."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"You mean you didn't miss me after being gone for a day?" Shelby let her head loll to the side, pouting at Santana.

Santana shook her head. "I just missed the sex."

Shelby scoffed. "Mean."

"You know I gotsta get my mack on the regular."

"And you know I _gotsta_ hate when you talk like you're from 'the hood.'" Shelby made air quotation marks with her free left hand.

Santana laughed and pushed herself up to kneel on the bed next to Shelby, taking a moment to catch her breath again before shuffling down a little to reach for the lacy panties that had definitely fulfilled their purpose.

"Now what are we doing?" Shelby asked as she tilted her hips to let Santana pull them down her legs.

"Enjoying each other."

She reached behind her own back and unhooked her bra, tossing it over the edge of the bed before shedding her own underwear. "No, no, let me," Santana said, noticing Shelby starting to reach behind her own back.

She could feel Shelby's eyes on her as she turned and swung a knee over Shelby, sitting back against her thighs. She was busy enjoying that peek-a-boo lace. Santana trailed her fingertips around the cups of the bra, drawing a quiet but quick inhale from Shelby. Satisfied, she ran her hands along the band until Shelby sat up just enough to let Santana unhook it, falling back to the mattress as she pulled it away. Santana had missed those breasts, and she covered them with her hands the moment she dropped the bra. Shelby's back arched a little and Santana finally looked up to see Shelby smiling at her.

"Whatcha doing?" Shelby asked, glancing quickly at the hands on her breasts.

Santana moved her hands and settled half on, half next to Shelby, snuggling contentedly against her, finding her lips for a slow kiss.

"Enjoying you."


	12. The Audition, Part III

"Did you buy that sexy-as-hell stuff in New York?" Santana had Shelby's right foot in her lap, massaging its sole with her thumbs.

Shelby wiggled her toes and switched feet. "That's not all I bought."

"What else?"

"Not telling."

"Is it for me?"

"Just for you."

"What is it?"

"Not telling."

Santana knew better than to try to get it out of her. "Well, you're going to be wearing that lingerie regularly."

"Oh am I?" Shelby asked, laughing.

Santana tickled the bottom of her foot, making Shelby laugh wildly. "You won't be wearing it for very long, but you will be wearing it often!"

"Stop it!" Shelby shrieked, desperately trying to yank her foot out of Santana's relentless tickling grasp.

She turned and caught Shelby's lower leg under her arm, easily winning the battle. "Say you'll wear it!"

"I'll wear it! I'll wear it! Stop!"

Santana eased up for a moment, just long enough for Shelby to stop laughing before starting up again, almost getting kicked in the face in the process. "When are you going to wear it?"

"Whenever you want! Stop, please!" Shelby was laughing so hard she was crying, and she'd managed to knock their alarm clock off the nightstand in her desperate attempt to escape.

Santana let go of her foot and laughed as Shelby slid as far away as she could until her back was against the headboard, knees to her chest, ankles crossed, hands covering her feet protectively.

"Evil!" Shelby spat, winded from her ordeal.

Santana struggled to get her laughter under control, opting to mute it by crawling forward to kiss her flustered lover.

"But you love me."

Shelby sighed. "God help me, but I do." She started relaxing and pushed her hair out of her eyes, flinching when Santana made a sudden move.

"Calm down," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "You knocked the damn clock on the floor; I'm checking the time." She reached over the side if the bed, using the cord to pull the clock into reach to could grab it and slap it back on the nightstand.

"Well?"

"Almost seven-thirty."

Shelby sighed. "Already?"

Santana turned the face of the clock toward her to see for herself and moved to sit next to Shelby, pulling the displaced flat sheet over their legs. They had spent the majority of the last two-and-a-half hours talking and touching and cuddling, despite their original intentions for a wild three hours alone. But frankly, Santana was perfectly content with how it had played out.

"Are we going back to our regular schedule tomorrow?" Santana asked, hopeful that they would be able to sleep in for as long as Beth and Shelby's schedule allowed. She pulled Shelby's hand into her lap to play with her fingers.

"Yeah pretty much. I need to keep up my cardio and vocalizations so I'm ready for callbacks, but it won't be so stressful on you anymore."

Santana tugged Shelby's hand, pulling her closer to lean against her. "I think I managed okay. I mean, except for –"

"Except for the sex thing. I know it was hard. I'm sorry. You probably think it was stupid."

"Hard? Yes. Stupid? No. I get it. Don't forget I went to school with a miniature you. I'm no stranger to psycho performers."

Shelby laughed, switching hands to let Santana play with those fingers, too. "Sorry."

"I said I get it. Are we going to go through it again in a week, though, for callbacks?" She saw Shelby's jaw tighten, a telltale signal that she didn't want to answer. "Damn," Santana said, resigned.

Shelby sat back up and turned a little to face her. "Honey, I'm sorry, but –"

"Stop explaining," Santana said, holding her hand up. "_I get it._ How many callbacks are there going to be? Do you know?"

"Not really. My agent said there could be several…"

"Okay. Well, we dealt with one, we can deal with several." Santana didn't want to ask what would happen if and when Shelby got the role. If every night were performance night, would she be in perpetual performance mode? Would their sex life be the casualty on Shelby's road to stardom? She really, really hoped she had a routine for a long-term, real-life situation.

"What's wrong?"

Santana's eyes met Shelby's, unaware that she had mentally disappeared for a second. "Just thinking if I'd have realized we were going abstinent again in six days, I would have been more constructive with our time tonight."

"Aw," Shelby said, laughing as she reached up to hold the back of Santana's neck. "We still have a good twenty minutes," she added, bringing their mouths together.

Santana smiled against her kiss and let herself lean sideways, pulling Shelby with her until they were lying together again.

Forty-five minutes later, Santana's phone was ringing. Based on the loudness of its ring, she knew it somehow managed to not end up on the floor where the clock was (again).

"You're closer," Santana mumbled, weakly nudging Shelby with her leg. Somehow, their heads had ended up at the foot of the bed and they were on opposite sides than they had begun.

"But it's your phone," Shelby said with a groan, sitting up to snatch Santana's phone off the nightstand. She tossed it onto Santana's stomach. It landed flat with a loud _thwap._

Santana gasped. "That's cold!" She grabbed it and answered. "Hello?"

"_Is it safe, or are you still hanging from a chandelier somewhere?"_

"She's untying me right now."

"Santana!" Shelby yelped, making a move to grab her phone.

"Oh, cool it." Santana stopped her with a well-placed foot to the chest, her current position advantageous. "I'm obviously joking. He's my friend. Friends make jokes."

"You don't need to be making jokes about our private time."

"'_Private time'? Please tell me that's not how she actually talks in bed."_

Santana laughed, grateful Shelby couldn't hear Puck's side of the conversation. She knew it was driving her crazy though. "You have no idea."

"_Hot. Do you want me to drop off the kiddo? I called late on purpose."_

"Yeah, we wouldn't have heard the phone if you were on time, so thanks." She grinned at Shelby, whose face kept shifting through different shades of pink.

"_Spank bank, for real."_

"Ew!"

"_Just being real. So what am I doing? Now? Later? I can keep her for the night. I wouldn't mind."_

"Hang on." Santana took the phone from her ear, still smiling at her grumpy girlfriend. "He wants to know if we want more time to fuck."

Shelby's eyes got so big Santana thought they might pop right out. Santana saw the pillow coming and she put her forearm up to block it before it caught her in the face. She started laughing and held the phone up in the air, baiting Shelby to grab for it, only to be reeled in by Santana's legs to fall haphazardly on top of her.

"Give me that," Shelby said, unfazed.

Santana held it out of reach and locked her ankles against Shelby's lower back. "It's muted! I muted it."

"You better not be lying."

"Look." Santana tilted the screen down so Shelby could see the mute button illuminated.

"Thank God," Shelby breathed, her forehead falling to Santana's chest.

"He did ask what we wanted him to do, though. He offered to keep her for awhile longer, or for the night."

"No. No more sex. You were mean to me." Shelby's voice was muffled, making her sound all the more pitiful.

"It's not healthy to withhold sex as punishment in a relationship."

"What about withholding it because you're a big fat meanie?"

Santana laughed so hard her eyes teared up.

Shelby picked up her head, and though she was still blushing, she was smiling. "If he has to wake her up in an hour to bring her home, we'll never get her back down."

"And you miss her?"

"Are you mad?"

"Mad that you miss your daughter?" Santana said, incredulous. "Of course not. Just tell me what you want him to do."

"I think I'd like her to sleep here tonight."

"Okay." Santana brought the phone back down, tapping the button to unmute it. She knew Shelby was close enough to hear the other end of the line, now. She hoped he wouldn't be too crude, for Shelby's sake. "Hey, sorry."

"_It's cool. What's the plan?"_

"You can come drop her off." Santana was pretending not to notice the lips that were starting to travel down her chest. "We'll figure out a sleepover for her soon, though."

"_Okay. I'll head over."_

"Drive slowly," Shelby said, loud enough for him to hear, before pushing herself backwards down Santana's body. The fact that Shelby had been bold enough to say that to him made Santana's heart race. Even the most vague of hints to another person was probably Shelby's equivalent of a threesome on her scale of salaciousness.

"_Oh, damn! Is she – are you – don't hang up! Just let me – how do you record on this damn phone –"_

Santana disconnected the call and dropped her phone to reach down and tangle her fingers into Shelby's hair. She really, really hoped Puck would drive slowly.

* * *

><p>Puck did take his time, and his knowing fist bump with Santana upon his return made Shelby take her daughter and her leave quickly, disappearing into Beth's room behind a closed door.<p>

"Sup?" Puck said, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"Sup?" Santana questioned, pouring herself a glass of water in front of the fridge.

"Yeah." Puck was grinning. "I want the deets."

"She doesn't really like me talking about it." She leaned back against the counter, taking a long drink. "But it was amazing."

"Hot. What do you two do?"

Santana tilted her head. "You're not seriously asking me how two women have sex. I've seen your porn collection. Actually, we even watched one together. So don't play the dumb card."

"Good times."

"Ugh, don't remind me."

Puck clutched at his heart. "Baby, don't hurt me."

Santana rolled her eyes and tossed her glass of water at him Slushie-style, though it was empty and she knew it.

Puck laughed. "I'm just messing with you. Maybe I'll get lucky and you'll come over for a beer and tell me how you two get freaky."

"You wish."

"I do wish. So, what happened? She get that part or what?"

"Not yet. She's pretty confident though."

Puck shifted in his chair. "What happens if she gets it?"

Santana didn't want to have this conversation. Not right now, not so soon, and definitely not without Shelby. "We haven't talked about it yet."

"She'd move to New York, though."

"Well, yeah, she would have to."

"But –"

"Puck, stop," Santana said, already feeling bad for him. "We'll have to cross that bridge if we get to it. And we'll all talk about it together. Quinn, too."

Puck huffed, his face conflicted at he stood. "I'm gonna go."

Santana wanted to tell him to stop, to not be mad or jump to conclusions, but she knew that Shelby being cast and relocating to New York – with Beth – was a very real possibility. Shelby of course had every legal right to take Beth wherever she saw fit, but Puck was part of Beth's life and she part of his. Santana would be devastated if she was in his place.

"I'm sorry, Puck." She followed him, trailing a few steps behind.

He stopped at the door, shrugging one shoulder. "I know. Hit me up later. Let's figure out that overnight thing."

"Okay."

"And I still wanna get that beer."

Santana smiled, grateful he wasn't angry. "We will soon. I'll call you."

"Cool."

"Hey, Puckerman," Santana said, stopping him at the doorway. He turned. "Thank you."

He winked at her and pulled the door closed, leaving Santana alone in the kitchen. She sighed, not pleased with being reminded of the probable drama on the horizon. Santana locked the door and wandered through the apartment back to Beth's room, not surprised to find Shelby in the rocking chair, Beth nearly asleep on her shoulder. She was old enough to be put to bed without the coddling, but sometimes they spoiled her (or themselves).

Shelby smiled at her and Santana returned it. She crossed the room, bending down to kiss the top of Beth's head, and then Shelby's. "I'm going to put a movie on in the bedroom," she said quietly.

"I'll be in in a minute."

Santana washed up for bed quickly and found a movie they would both enjoy on one of the premium channels. She remade the bed and wiggled out of the gym shorts she had pulled on earlier in a rush to answer the door before climbing into bed, propped up against the headboard.

Shelby came in a few minutes later, closing and locking the door behind her. They rarely slept with the door closed, unless one of them had ulterior motives, and she cocked an eyebrow at Shelby as she walked passed to their bathroom. Shelby returned a few minutes later and slipped under the covers, sitting up next to Santana, not acknowledging her suggestive action.

"Sooo…" Santana prompted, nodding at the door.

"We should start getting in the habit. She won't be in a crib forever."

Santana laughed and leaned over, pulling Shelby into a playful kiss. After a few seconds, she snuggled into her, linking their arms and holding her hand.

"I'm glad you're home," Santana said, tilting her head to rest it on Shelby's shoulder.

Shelby let her head rest against Santana's. "Me, too."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...[obviously]<em>


	13. The Audition, Part IV

**A/N:** OK everyone – I'm sorry it took so long to get this story updated, and that this chapter is of lesser quality than the others (in my opinion). But I'm really looking forward to the things yet to come!

* * *

><p>A few days later while Santana was dialing her phone to order Chinese for dinner, a text from Shelby interrupted.<p>

"_They called."_

Santana's heart skipped a beat. _"And?"_

"_Don't want to talk about it over text."_

She groaned. _"Then why textme?"_

"_Will be a lil late. xo"_

Santana rapped her fingernails on her knee. She assumed the news was positive, as a rejection would likely have involved a phone call and a lot of yelling and/or crying. She was excited, but a tad nervous just in case rejection had sent Shelby off the deep end and she was going to be late due to an unscheduled stop at a barbershop to shave her head.

Her nerves were assuaged when she heard keys unlocking the front door followed by Shelby bursting in, wearing one of her big, dazzling smiles.

"Callback?" Santana guessed.

"I got a callback, baby!"

Santana whooped and leapt from the couch, skittering around it to throw her arms around Shelby's neck and hug her tightly. "What did they say? When is it? And why are you late?"

Shelby laughed and pressed a kiss to Santana's lips. "One thing at a time."

"Then start with what they said. They must have loved you."

"He said they appreciated my obvious dedication and preparation and praised my vocal technique. Here." Shelby held out a tall, narrow paper bag. "Why I'm late."

Santana took the bag, having a good idea what the contents were. It was just a matter of whether it was wine or champagne. She guessed champagne.

"Pop that open. I want to drink while I still can." Shelby dropped her coat and purse on the floor in a moment of carelessness. "Where's our Booboo?"

"With Puck. He asked to pick her up from school, so I let him. Turns out, it was damn good timing," she added with a grin. She worked on opening the champagne, holding a towel over the cork to avoid it flying and breaking something or the bottle overflowing. It made a satisfying _POP!_ when she finally worked it free, and Shelby handed her the two glasses she had pulled from a cabinet.

"Presumptuous," Shelby replied, leaning against the counter.

Santana winked. "So I guess the answer to my other question is that you're going back pretty soon, if you're having a last hurrah." She poured while Shelby held the glasses.

"This coming Monday."

"Are we doing _everything_ tonight while we still can?" Santana asked teasingly as she set aside the bottle.

"We'll see where the night leads." The corner of Shelby's eye twitched.

Santana smiled and raised her glass in a toast. "To Broadway."

"Here's hoping."

* * *

><p>Shelby's absence was less of an event the second time. It wasn't the weekend, so Beth went to day care and Santana went to work, where she was kept plenty busy all day. Her cell phone remained relatively quiet, Shelby sending periodic texts.<p>

_ "Rachel says hi!" _ It came with a photo of Shelby and Rachel holding red Starbucks cups, bundled in winter coats and hats and scarves on a nondescript city street. Shelby hadn't mentioned planning to meet up with Rachel, but Santana was glad she had.  
><em>"Hi back!"<em>

_"How's work going?"  
><em>_"Pretty busy. Lots of new cases."_

_ "On my way to callbacks."  
><em>_"You'll kill it. Love you."  
><em>_"Love you too. Call you tonight."_

After work, Santana picked up Beth from school and made an early dinner. They were settled into Shelby's and her bed watching _Lady & The Tramp _when her phone rang. She answered it without bothering to check the caller ID.

"Hi, babe."

"_Hi, sweetheart. I didn't wake you, did I?"_

"Nope, we're up."

"_It's past her bedtime, Santana."_

Santana glanced at the clock and then at Beth's heavy eyelids, not having realized how late it was. "Lost track of time. She'll be out soon; I can see her fighting it. How'd it go?"

"_It went well, I think, though I didn't feel as prepared this time. Hopefully it didn't show."_

"I'm sure you were great. Don't worry."

"_Thank you."_

"How long we gotta be in suspense this time?"

"_Not very. I'll probably hear back sooner than the first time, since there were fewer actors."_

"And then we get to go through this eleven more times?"

Shelby laughed. _"I really hope not. They didn't give me any info, just that I would be hearing from them."_

"Not knowing kills me. I don't know how you handle it."

"_It kills me, too. I just don't admit it. Until now, anyway."_

"Then come home so we can keep each other distracted from thinking about it."

"_Soon, baby. I'll be home by six."_

Santana sighed. The day had been easy because she had been preoccupied, but Shelby's absence was quite noticeable now that the day was over and she was in bed. She changed the topic. "So you met up with Rachel?"

"_Oh! Yeah. I felt bad, not having thought to do so last time. I called her when I landed. She was so excited, asking all about the audition process."_

Santana chuckled. "She talk your ear off about it?"

"_Not really – the opposite, I suppose. I did most of the talking, since she wanted to know what it was like."_

"I'm glad you got to see her."

"_Me, too."_

Santana paused. She didn't know if she should bring up the elephant that had been looming in the room since the first audition. She treaded lightly. "If – when – you get another callback, maybe we can come with you. Maybe…check out some neighborhoods together."

Shelby was quiet long enough to let anxiety start creeping into Santana's psyche. _"We need to talk about that."_

Santana deflated. "Oh." Nothing about that sounded good. 'We need to talk.'

"_Oh, no honey, I didn't mean it like that! You don't need to be nervous to ask about how this show could affect us. We do need to talk about it. We should have already, and that's my fault. I promise we will when I'm home."_

"Okay."

"_I didn't realize it had been bothering you. I've been so caught up in my own head with all this. I'm sorry, Santana."_

Santana didn't particularly appreciate that Shelby had seemingly forgotten that her pursuit of a role on Broadway would impact Santana. Aside from the night Shelby told her about the first audition and asking about her old New York dreams, she hadn't said anything about Santana going with her to New York should the time come. At least the issue would be resolved soon – hopefully for the best.

"It's whatevs. Beth's asleep, so I need to take her to her room. Call me tomorrow from the airport? I'll be at work, but I'll answer if I can."

"_Okay. Kiss her for me."_

"I will."

"_I love you, Santana. I'm really sorry."_

Santana felt a little bad for having made Shelby feel guilty, but there was something delicious about making the woman who radiated confidence and control look for forgiveness.

"Love you, too. Goodnight."

"_Night, honey."_

* * *

><p>Santana missed Shelby's call that morning. She was filling in for a paralegal that had called in sick, and was away from her desk most of the day pulling files and compiling mailings, letting the office intern handle her reception duties. When she noticed the missed call, she listened to the sweet voicemail Shelby had left and sent her a quick text in reply, letting her know she looked forward to her return.<p>

The twinge of contempt she had felt last night when Shelby admitted to not having properly considered Santana's involvement in her Broadway endeavor had faded, and she was excited for her return. It had only been one day, and it had passed quickly, but she missed Shelby all the same.

Shelby made it home shortly after 5:30, rolling suitcase in one hand, a bouquet of a dozen red roses in the other.

"What are these?" Santana asked, surprised when Shelby held them out to her.

"Apology flowers. I spent the entirety of my travel day feeling like an idiot for being so self-centered about all this. You've been telling me again and again how this is negatively impacting you, and I haven't really listened."

Santana gave half a smile. "Snixx hasn't even come out to play and you're already pacifying me with gifts."

"I'd rather skip Snixx and move on to the pacifying." Shelby leaned in, placing a tentative kiss on Santana's lips.

Santana kept her eyes open. She liked this timid side of Shelby, and she liked being perceived as a tad intimidating. She could intimidate anyone at McKinley, but Shelby was so self-confident, she was immune to it. Or, nearly immune to it, it would seem.

"Will you forgive me?"

Santana inhaled, relishing the scent emanating from her roses. "That depends."

"On?"

"On whether or not there's anything new and lacy in that suitcase for you to wear tonight."

"Then I guess I'm screwed, because the only new and lacy things in this suitcase are for _you_ to wear."

It took every ounce of Santana's willpower to not throw her flowers on the floor and Shelby on the table. Instead, she went to the kitchen to find a vase for her flowers. "Yeah, you'll get screwed alright," she said under her breath.

"What was that?"

"I said Beth's playing in her room. Leave your suitcase. I'll take care of it." She knew by the look on her face that Shelby recognized her veiled courtesy as an excuse to dig through its contents to find whatever it was she had brought home, but Shelby only nodded.

"Thank you." Shelby paused in the living room, turning back. "Do you want to talk about New York in a bit?"

"Yes, please," Santana replied as she set the glass vase of roses in the center of the kitchen table.

She wondered if she was being too forgiving or too harsh. Santana didn't like that they hadn't discussed their potential new future, but she hadn't felt terribly upset by it. Yes, she felt a bit slighted by Shelby's self-centered focus, but she also wasn't surprised by it. Shelby's well-measured confidence was one of the first things that drew Santana to her, and she struggled to fault her for focusing on her goal.

Realizing she was just standing in the kitchen lost in thought, Santana took Shelby's small suitcase to their room, hefting it onto the bed to unzip it. She tossed the clothes aside, finding a white shopping bag with _La Perla _embossed on it in silver folded flat at the bottom of the luggage. She gasped, knowing how expensive their lingerie was. She was almost afraid to look inside.

Almost.

She tipped the bag, letting the light, flimsy material slide out. She had expected black, and was surprised that the lacy undergarments Shelby had brought home for her were red. She picked up the bra, nodding her approval at its style. The matching panties rivaled those Shelby had brought home for herself on her last trip in their sexiness. She picked up the bag, properly opening it to return the items to it and noticed one more thing in the bag, wrapped in white tissue. She pulled it out and unfolded the tissue, blowing out a low whistle at the garter belt and packet of black stockings. Shelby wasn't messing around. Or maybe she really did feel guilty about omitting Santana from an important part of her life. Either way, Santana approved of the selections.

She dropped her new things back into the bag and finished unpacking Shelby's suitcase, setting it inside the closet. She went to find her girlfriend, who was sitting on the floor of Beth's room, rolling a ball back and forth with the toddler.

"Very nice," Santana said, letting the shopping bag dangle off her index finger, swinging a bit.

Shelby glanced up, eyes moving from Santana's face to the bag and back. A smile played at the corners of her mouth. "I thought so."

"Maybe you want Snixx to come out to play after all?" Santana teased, quirking an eyebrow.

Shelby blushed and cleared her throat, not giving a definitive answer.

Santana chuckled. "Did you have dinner? There's some leftover chicken in the fridge."

"No, I didn't. That sounds good."

* * *

><p>Santana sat at the kitchen table with Shelby while she ate. She was surprised when Shelby brought up the topic so quickly.<p>

"If I get this role, Beth and I are going to have to move to New York. You're part of our life and I want you to continue being part of it."

"So do I."

"Do you want to live in New York?"

"My home is wherever you are." Santana mentally gagged. What a corny thing to say.

Shelby set down her fork and put her hand over Santana's. "You're so sweet. I want you to be happy."

"You make me happy."

"I just feel like I'm dragging you away from – "

"Stop," Santana said firmly. "I'm going to break this down for you once. I'm in love with you. My life is your life, and I hope that you consider your life as mine. I don't care if we're in Lima, or New York, or London or Paris, as long as we're together. I think what we've built here together is pretty great, and I think we could build something even more amazing in the greatest city in the world.

"But I need you to understand something. My life is _your_ life. You can't forget about me."

"I didn't for-"

"Yes, you did. You forgot that we're a family, that what you do and what you're pursuing affects me. You can't jet off to New York without even asking if I'm okay with staying here. You can't get so caught up in your routines that you fail to realize the impact it has on me. I love you, Shelby, I do. But I'm not your nanny, and that's what I've been reduced to when you're busy prepping and rehearsing and auditioning."

Santana didn't realize just how this had made her feel until she started talking about it. Hurt was apparent in Shelby's eyes, and it hurt her to even say those things, but it was the truth. She felt left behind.

"I don't care that I stay home, though. I love getting to spend more time with Beth. But to not even be invited…it's…insulting. You're going after your dream, and I want to be there with you, supporting you, experiencing it with you, but you don't want me there."

"I do, I – "

"If you did, you would have asked me. I'm not mad; I'm hurt. I know how you operate and I love how driven you are and I respect your artistic process and all of that. Even if you tell me you need to be able to focus and would rather I stay home – that would be better than for you to say nothing at all, to just…_assume_ I was fine with the scenario you created.

"We're partners, Shelby. I need you to treat me like one." She paused to take a breath, noticing Shelby on the verge of tears. She put her hand over the one that was covering the other. "That's all I want."

"That's all?" Shelby said, a laugh mixed with a sob.

"There's nothing left for me here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not accomplishing anything. There's no reason for me to stay if this amazing thing happens for you. If you're going to New York, there's nothing for me to even consider. I'm going with you. If you want me there."

Tears were trickling down Shelby's cheeks, and she heard her own voice waver. She hadn't meant to make them cry.

Shelby pulled her hand away to push the tears off her face. "I feel like a moron," she muttered.

"It's okay to cry," Santana offered, finally dabbing away a tear that had gathered at the corner of her eye.

"No." Shelby cleared her throat, trying again. "No. I feel like a moron because of what I've done. Or _not_ done, is more accurate I guess. I'm not used to having someone else in my life. And that sounds terrible; you've been in my life for quite a while now. But for fifteen years, I was alone. I did what I wanted. I went where I wanted. I'm not making an excuse. It's just a fact. I know I'm self-centered and egotistical and get overzealous. I don't stop and think about how those things make you feel. It even took me awhile after I adopted Beth to adjust to being a parent, that it meant I couldn't always do whatever I wanted. Now there are two people to think about, when even one was difficult for me. And I took advantage of you so I could slip back into my old habits. That's not fair to you, it's not fair to Beth, and it's not fair to us.

"I didn't realize what I was doing. I didn't realize what it was doing to you, or to us. We _are_ partners. I need to treat you like that. You say you're going with me to New York if I want you there. Of course I do. You're my family."

That made Santana's tears flow in earnest. She pushed them away in frustration. "Damn, now I'm crying."

"I thought crying was okay?" Shelby said, her tone lighter as she lifted her hand to brush a few tears off Santana's cheeks.

Santana shook her head and caught Shelby's hand, pulling it to her mouth to kiss it. "You want me to go with you?"

"I'm so sorry I made you think anything otherwise was even a possibility."

Santana closed her eyes. This entire situation got way more complex and emotional than she thought it would. Her feelings were overwhelming her – the contempt that had started creeping in, the passion she felt for another person, the readiness to follow her anywhere, the fear that she could be considered an unwelcome distraction, and the relief that came with Shelby's response.

When she opened her eyes, she found Shelby standing next to her. Santana turned and wrapped her arms around Shelby's waist, pressing her face to her abdomen. She felt hands in her hair and she hugged her tighter. A few moments passed and Santana's arms were gently pulled, urging her to let go to be pulled to her feet to be hugged properly.

"I love you, Santana."

Santana felt breath on her cheek and she turned, bringing their lips together in a brief but passionate kiss. "I love you, too."

Shelby rested her forehead against Santana's, letting their noses bump playfully. "Do you forgive me for being an egotistical jerk?"

"It still depends," Santana said thoughtfully.

"On?"

"On what part of New York City you want to live in."

Shelby laughed. "I plead the fifth until we visit it together."

"Soon."

"I definitely hope so."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	14. The Audition, Part V

**A/N: **Some of you said you miss Snixx. Here, have some grown-up Snixx. :)

* * *

><p>The call came the very next day. The casting team wanted to see Shelby one last time. There was no indication if that meant she had made it to the final round of auditions, or if they wanted to be sure before cutting her.<p>

"At least we'll know soon," Santana said after Shelby relayed what she had been told.

"That's true," Shelby said. She was fidgeting, clearly caught between excitement and nervousness. "It's on Friday. Do you want to come up with me this time?"

Santana smiled. Shelby had been walking on eggshells around her since their talk the previous night. Her hyper-awareness was sweet, but unnecessary. "I appreciate that. I don't want you to be distracted, though. This is obviously a bid deal if they know it will be the last time they bring you in."

Shelby bit her thumbnail as she thought. She was quiet for several moments. "I would like you to come with me. I'm going to need to focus that day, but once it's done, we could have a nice weekend in the city. Maybe…get a feel for the neighborhoods?"

Santana's smile turned into a grin. "I would love that."

"You said Noah was wanting to have Beth overnight, right?"

"Yeah, he mentioned it when he dropped her off."

"Do you want to ask him if he'd like to watch her for the weekend? Not that I want to leave our BooBoo here, but we'd cover a lot more ground, especially when it's so cold right now."

Santana's grin became a smirk. She knew exactly what that meant. Shelby had a valid point – it would be near impossible to spend much time outside with the toddler, given it was the middle of winter. If they were going to accomplish any neighborhood exploring, the fact of the matter was that it would be easier to do so without toting along Beth. And all of that translated into a weekend alone with Shelby in their favorite city.

"On it," she said, grabbing her phone off the coffee table in front of them.

"I'll go start looking at flights." Shelby leaned over and kissed Santana's cheek before disappearing into the bedroom where she kept her laptop.

"We're going to have to talk to them about this, you know," Santana called after her. Puck knew what was potentially coming, but Shelby really needed to talk to him about it. Quinn, too, though her living in Connecticut would make it difficult to have such a conversation when all she need do is hang up if she didn't like what she heard. The more she thought about it, the more it started irking her that she was the only one that had discussed this with Puck. That wasn't fair. Why was this on her, telling a guy that his daughter was probably about to be ripped out of his life again?

"I know. I don't want to cross that bridge until I know what is or isn't happening, though. I don't need Quinn pissed at me again over something that might not even happen."

"Right," Santana muttered, dropping their conversation as her call to Puck connected.

"_Sup, mi chica bonita?"_

Santana rolled her eyes. "Sup, _cabrón_?"

"_I don't know what that means, but it sounds sexy when you say it, so I'll take it. What's up?"_

"You busy this weekend?"

"_Was gonna go out with my boys Saturday night. Why?"_

"Shelby has another callback in New York on Friday, and she wants me to go with her. Can you reschedule your boys' night to have a sleepover with your daughter?"

Puck was quiet for a moment. _"This New York thing is getting pretty serious, isn't it,"_ he finally said, his tone significantly different.

"All we know is this is her last audition for it. She'll talk to you and Q if anything happens."

"_I don't like this."_

Santana really didn't want to be pulled into this conversation again. It was ultimately Shelby's to have. And why wasn't she having it? Damn it. "Look, all we can do is take this one step at a time. We're on, like, step three of ten, so let's do step three and worry about four and five later."

"_Whatever. When you leaving?"_

"Some time Friday morning. Don't know what time yet. We'll be back Sunday night."

"_Fine. Let me know when you're gonna drop her off."_

"Thanks, Puck. We – " But the line had gone dead. Santana sighed and closed her eyes for a few seconds before venturing into the bedroom.

Shelby glanced up from her computer screen. "Everything okay?"

"I'm done having these conversations. I don't care if they're my friends – you adopted her from them. The next time someone has to tell one of them you might be leaving, it's going to be you." Santana fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to count the speckles in the texture to stay calm.

"Oh, honey, you should have said something. I would have called him."

"I did say something. You didn't want to have to talk about leaving unless you knew for sure."

Santana saw Shelby spin her chair to face her, though Santana didn't bother sitting up to actually talk face-to-face.

Shelby's voice was tense. "You seemed eager to call him."

"Because I was only thinking about getting my mack on in the city when I agreed to call. When I said you needed to talk to them would have been a good time for you to volunteer doing so."

"I don't know what's going to happen with this."

"Contrary to popular opinion, Puck's not an idiot. He knows what this could mean. He was asking about it last time he watched her, too."

"You should have said something."

Santana almost laughed. "I need to tell you that you need to at least _consider_ the feelings of your child's biological parents? Who, by the way, you've let reattach to her after they gave her up, only to take her away again."

"I didn't force them to give her up!"

Santana sat up, quickly growing livid. "Why am I the only one acting like an adult about this?"

Shelby's eyes narrowed. "What are you implying?"

"I'm not _implying_ anything," Santana said, climbing back off the bed to stand. "I'm telling you to act like a parent and deal with your babymama-papa drama instead of ignoring it or letting it become my problem. Because I'm done letting it be my problem."

Santana walked out before Shelby could reply. She was seconds away from saying something she knew she would regret, and she did not want to get into a screaming match with Beth nearby. Instead, she grabbed her coat and keys and stuffed her feet into the Uggs by the door and left. She didn't know where she was going; she only knew she couldn't be in there right now or she would make an already bad situation worse.

She was going to walk, but when the bitter cold air hit her, she changed direction and got in her car and drove. She had no destination. She just needed to clear her head. Shelby may have apologized for taking advantage of Santana's willingness to support her, but she had done it again the very next day.

Santana argued with herself. She should have made Shelby call Puck. She shouldn't have to make Shelby talk to Quinn and Puck. She should have just ignored Puck's questions and let Shelby deal with it from the beginning. Shelby should have talked to them before she even auditioned. Beth was Shelby's, she was free to move where she liked and didn't need permission from anyone. Shelby wasn't doing it intentionally. Why was she even caring about Quinn's and Puck's feelings? Shouldn't she always be on Shelby's side? Didn't they just cry to each other about being partners? Partners. What a gross term. Hetero couples didn't call each other partners, did they?

Santana groaned, slamming her palm on her steering wheel hard enough to make her pause and hope that she hadn't set off the airbag. She pulled into a vacant lot and threw the car into park, deciding she'd rather not get into an accident during a fit of rage.

She let her head fall against the steering wheel, fists clenched as she counted backwards from ten, breathing slowly.

"Fuck," she muttered when her fists had finally relaxed and she sat back. She was still pissed, at herself and at Shelby, but she didn't feel like she was about to explode anymore. Her pocket vibrated, and she pulled out her phone, glaring at the notification that Shelby had texted her. She threw her phone into the passenger seat and stared out the windshield, the wipers groaning against the lessening show.

She counted back from ten again, in time with the wipers, and reached for her phone. She swiped it open to see what Shelby had to say.

"_Am I still booking two tickets?"_

Santana didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry. Of all the things she could have said, she just wanted to know how to finish booking her trip. The angel on Santana's shoulder told her she was just being realistic, that she needed to get the tickets booked before flights sold out, but the little devil kept whispering about how Shelby had completely missed the point.

She grumbled to herself, tapping her phone against the wheel until she swallowed an ounce of her anger to be able to reply with a short, _"Yes."_

She waited a minute before adding, _"I'm really pissed at you."_

"_I know."_

"I know?!" Santana crowed, almost throwing her phone at the windshield but thinking better of it. "You know I'm pissed? Way to go, Sherlock! What was your first hint?"

Instead of typing any of that, she dropped the phone back on the seat, ignoring it when it buzzed again a few seconds later. She counted back from twenty before pulling out of the parking lot to make her way back home slowly, taking as many detours as she could manage before parking in front of their condo.

She hoped she was calm enough to not blow up at Shelby the moment she walked through the door. She sat in the car a few minutes, until it grew uncomfortably cold. Giving in to curiosity as she walked to their building, she checked the ignored text message.

"_I love you."_

"Damn it." Santana shoved the phone into her pocket as she climbed the four flights of stairs. She felt the anger trying to melt away as she warmed up, though a healthy amount had settled low in her gut.

The apartment was nearly dark when she entered, just a lamp in the corner of the living room left on, presumably so she wouldn't trip over anything. It was quiet, too. She noted that Beth's door was closed, signaling that she had been put to bed for the night. Santana pulled off her boots and coat before crossing the room, turning off the lamp on her way to their bedroom. It was dark as well, just Shelby's small reading lamp burning on her nightstand. The bed was empty but turned down, and the bathroom door was shut, the exhaust fan whirring and shower running.

Santana undressed and climbed into bed, willing herself to sleep. She really wanted this to be over, but it wouldn't be over until Shelby figured out how to change what she didn't seem to understand she was – or wasn't – doing. If that wasn't going to happen tonight, she didn't have the energy to go through it all again.

She was almost asleep when she heard the bathroom door open, felt the familiar dip of Shelby getting into bed, and heard the lamp click off. She lay still, feigning sleep, but Shelby had been able to tell when Santana was or wasn't sleeping from the very first night they had spent together.

"I'm sorry, Santana," she said quietly.

Santana sniffed an acknowledgement. It was all she could give her tonight. She felt Shelby rustling behind her, then a hand resting lightly on her bare hip, pulling just slightly. It was how Shelby always got her attention to initiate lovemaking when they went to bed with the intent to actually sleep.

"I have a headache," Santana grumbled, rolling a little to try to get out of Shelby's reach.

Shelby got the hint and her hand disappeared. It allowed Santana's annoyance to dissipate further, until she finally fell asleep.

She awoke with a start hours later, though the room was still dark. Her arm was asleep, pinned under her pillow, and she tried to roll onto her back, but met resistance. She panicked for a second, only to realize at some point in the night she had ended up where she had so begrudgingly refused to be – facing Shelby, and wrapped in her arms.

Santana frowned, the dead weight of Shelby's unconscious arms keeping her from rolling away. As miffed as she still felt, she really didn't want to wake her, as she was sleeping so soundly. She hadn't even stirred when Santana jerked awake. With a sigh, she tucked her head back under Shelby's chin where she had spent most of the night.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	15. The Audition, Part VI

**A/N:** I don't think I have an author's note today. So, thanks for your reviews, and enjoy!

* * *

><p>Santana's mind was still foggy with irritation when the alarm clock buzzed in the morning. She hadn't forgotten about their argument, one-sided though it may have been. She knew Shelby hadn't forgotten, either, by the way she was clearly trying to win forgiveness with the kisses she was placing along Santana's neck.<p>

"You can't win me over with sex," Santana said, trying to resist the urge to tilt her head and encourage it. But God, it felt good. Shelby knew her weakness, and was trying to capitalize on it.

"Let me try," Shelby murmured.

Santana shivered, the kisses becoming wet. It took every ounce of willpower to not roll over and kiss her when a hand slid up her side and over her breast. Instead, she rolled away and got out of bed.

"Not going to work," she said as she pulled on a T-shirt and pair of shorts from the dresser. Her heart was still racing and she could see the blush in Shelby's cheeks, and she couldn't help a quick smile. "But I didn't mind you trying."

Shelby smiled back and crawled out of bed and right into the bathroom, returning a few moments later in her bathrobe. Santana was sitting on the edge of the bed checking email on her phone. She glanced up when Shelby paused in front of her.

"It doesn't sound like Beth is awake yet. I'm going to go start breakfast."

"I'm just going to have cereal. Don't worry about anything for me," Santana said. She could rebuff Shelby's niceties all weekend if she wanted to. Though, she didn't really want to. She just wanted her to squirm a little.

"Who said I was intending to make anything for you?" Shelby said as she walked out.

Santana smiled once Shelby was gone. She did love being teased, and despite holding onto her resentment, it was quickly becoming difficult to be _angry_. She could hear Shelby trying to be quiet in the kitchen, dishes sliding and silverware rattling. She was anything but quiet, and Santana wasn't surprised when the beginnings of Beth whining to be taken out of her crib started filtering through the baby monitor. She stood up to get her, out of habit, and was surprised by Shelby beating her to the girl's room.

Shelby glanced up at Santana as she picked up her daughter, singing a quiet made-up song to her. Santana paused, taking note, and then continued to the kitchen for her cereal.

She rolled her eyes when she got there. A bowl, spoon, napkin, the box of her favorite cereal – Honey Nut Cheerios – and milk carton were laid out on the table waiting for her. "Whatever," she said, sitting down to eat.

Usually she would be the one taking care of Beth, making breakfast and packing lunches while Shelby got ready for work. So far, she hadn't needed to do any of it. She knew Shelby was making an effort to not make her feel like she was just Beth's nanny, and she appreciated the sentiment, but wondered how long it would last.

She also didn't like being excluded from things, and she genuinely liked taking care of Beth. Hearing the bathtub faucet running, she finished her cereal and ventured to the bathroom. Shelby was on her knees on the floor, Beth in the tub.

"You seem to have thought about what I said," Santana said, sitting on the edge of the tub.

"I did," Shelby said as she sat back to let Beth play with the toys in the water.

Santana looked at her expectantly.

"I'm working on it. I know I've been self-centered and inconsiderate with all this audition stuff. I'm going to work on it, but I need to ask you to be patient with me. It's hard to teach an old dog new tricks."

"Don't make excuses. Just please; remember to be conscientious of _everyone_ in your life when you have stuff going on. If you do get cast, I don't want to…be left behind while you get caught up in being a big Broadway star."

"Oh, sweetheart," Shelby said, laying a hand on Santana's knee. It was still wet from Beth's bathwater. "I'm not going to leave you behind. If I did, how would my laundry ever get done?"

Santana gasped and reached down with her left hand, sending a decent wave of water over the side of the tub and right into Shelby's face. It was enough to make Beth squeal with laughter and start her attempts to splash her mother. It was all Santana could do to not burst out laughing as Shelby sat, stunned, water dripping off her chin.

"Okay, I deserved that," Shelby finally said, using the sleeves of her robe to dry her face. "You know I was joking, right?"

"I know," Santana said through a laugh, leaning down to kiss Shelby fully on the mouth. "Go pack her bag for the day. I'll finish her bath."

Shelby stole another kiss before replying, "You sure?"

"I don't mind helping. I just don't want to feel like you don't care that I am."

"That's never the case. But I won't make you feel like that again."

Santana moved to sit on her knees, bumping Shelby with her hip. "Go pack your lunches or you'll be late. Oh, hey Shel?"

Shelby paused in the doorway, turning around. "Hmm?"

"Maybe call Quinn when you have time today. If you're lucky, Puck hasn't told her yet."

"I was already planning to do it on my drive home tonight, believe it or not."

Santana smiled. "I believe you."

* * *

><p>Santana started packing when she returned home from picking up Beth from daycare. She was so excited for New York that she could barely focus that day at work. She'd spent most of her time thinking about what she wanted to do and see and wear.<p>

Usually when she and Shelby traveled together, if the trip was short enough, they'd share a suitcase. Not this time. Santana wanted to take far too many clothes to allow such a thing. She had her suitcase open on the bed, Beth sitting next to it and kept entertained by an episode of _Sesame Street_ she found on the children's channel. She'd packed her jeans and dress pants and sweaters and an extra scarf/hat/gloves set to coordinate depending on which sweater she wore and her brown AND black boots. And the lingerie Shelby had brought home for her a few days earlier. She left Shelby's suitcase open next to hers.

She heard the front door open and close and the familiar jangle of Shelby's keys hitting the counter before, "Santana? BooBoo? I'm home!"

"In the bedroom," Santana called back.

"Hi," Shelby said when she came in, taking a seat on the bed next to Beth. She pulled the little girl into her lap and kissed the top of her head. "Packing?"

"What was your first hint?" Santana said with a roll of her eyes.

Shelby made a face back at her. "I talked to Quinn."

Santana sobered. "How'd it go?"

"Fine, actually," Shelby said with an air of relief. "She said she hopes it happens. She could just take the train down to the city."

"Huh."

"What's 'huh'?"

"Nothing. I just hadn't considered that – that we'd be moving closer to Quinn. For some reason I thought she would be the one to rain holy terror down upon this."

Shelby laughed at Santana's hyperbole. "Not at all. She said she's in New York regularly already. I guess she and Rachel have become pretty good friends."

Santana was folding a T-shirt and slowed, her brain clicking things together. Quinn giving Rachel that train ticket. All their bickering throughout high school. The "Bianca" Quinn said she was dating at Yale. Visiting New York frequently. Santana gasped.

"What?" Shelby asked, oblivious.

"Nothing. Nothing. I thought I was going to sneeze but it disappeared."

Santana tossed the shirt into her suitcase, trying to erase the realization from her face. Of course. _Of course!_ As if their lives weren't complicated enough. Let's throw in dating the biological daughter of your biological daughter's adoptive mother into the mix. Thanks, Quinn and Rachel. Quinn probably would have told her, if her circumstance had been different, if she hadn't been living with Shelby. She understood why neither of them had said anything, though. And now that she knew, she would have great fun with the information.

"I'm going ask her if she can come down, if she doesn't have class. I need something to do while you're doing your thing. Maybe she and Rachel and I can get together. Do some real catching up."

"Oh, that sounds like fun! You should try to work it out."

"I'm sure I will," Santana said confidently. She moved her nearly packed suitcase to the floor so she could sit next to Shelby. Something about her little plot excited her, and if it weren't for Beth's presence, she would be on top of Shelby instead of next to her. Instead, she pulled her into a kiss that made Shelby whimper. "Finish packing. You want Chinese for dinner? I won't want to make a mess of the kitchen before we go."

It took Shelby a few seconds to respond, eyes a little glassy. "Yeah…yes…yeah that sounds good."

Santana left Shelby to pack, calling in their usual order for delivery. As soon as she hung up, she texted Quinn.

"_Hey Q. Shelby tell you we're going to NYC 2moro?"_

"_S! Hi! Yes she called a bit ago, told me she might be in a bway show. Exciting!"_

"_I have time to kill w/o her in the morn. You wanna come down and hang? Didnt get to see you much over xmas."_

"_Tomorrow?"_

"_Yeah. You have class?"_

"_Not on Fridays. I can get in at 10:30. That work?"_

"_Perf. Idk where we're staying yet. I'll text you when I do. Meet me there."_

"_Great! Can't wait!"_

"_btw, you care if I invite Berry to join us?"_

"_Why would I care?"_

Santana smiled. _"Does she have class Friday morns?"_

"_No.  
><em>_I mean I don't think so."_

"_Awesome! See ya soon!" _

She swapped message windows to immediately text Rachel. _"Berry!"_

It took Rachel a few minutes to reply, _"Hello!"_ Santana would bet money on it that Quinn had just called her to warn her.

"_I'm gonna be in NY tomorrow. Take me somewhere awesome."_

"_You could at least ask me politely, but it would be nice to see you. Did Shelby get another callback?"_

"_Of course she did. Entertain me for the morning while she's doing that. Come get me at 10:30."_

"_Where?"_

"_Idk. Gotta find out. Will text you later. Ps Q's coming too. Yay!"_

Santana was genuinely excited to spend time with Quinn and Rachel, but knowing she would spend much of the day tormenting them made it all the more delicious.

* * *

><p>"What time does our flight leave?" Santana asked over dinner.<p>

"7:15."

"Oh my God, that's brutal. We should have driven to Dayton tonight."

"I know," Shelby said as she coaxed Beth into eating one of her string beans. "I didn't really think about it until you'd already talked to Noah about watching her beginning tomorrow."

Santana groaned. They would have to be on the road no later than 4:00am. She left the table to get her phone, texting Puck that they would be dropping Beth off in the middle of the night.

"Come sit down. You can tweet your exasperation later."

"I'm telling Puck when we'll be by in the morning. And I need to tell Q and Rachel where we're staying, too. What's the hotel?"

* * *

><p>Santana wanted to cry when the alarm went off at 3:00am. There was a shred of solace in that she did not have to get up quite yet, as she would wait until they were at the hotel before taking her morning shower.<p>

"You need to get up, Santana."

Santana jerked awake, apparently having fallen back asleep. She let Shelby pull her out of bed to stumble into the bathroom and make herself semi-presentable for air travel, but she dressed for absolute comfort and warmth - sweatpants, a McKinley T-shirt, and a hoodie. When she returned, their suitcases were zipped and waiting by the front door, and Shelby was in her coat and boots, rocking Beth in her arms.

"Would you mind taking our bags down and starting the car? I'm trying to keep her down," Shelby said quietly.

Santana yawned and nodded, shrugging into her coat and grabbing their luggage. They were heavy, but not unmanageable since they were both carry-ons. She stacked them on the back seat next to Beth's car seat and started Shelby's SUV. It wasn't bitter cold, being parked in the garage, but it was cold enough to make Santana quick about getting back inside.

She finished packing her last-minute things while the car warmed up – her phone and charger, a book if she somehow didn't manage to sleep on the plane, and her headphones. Accepting that the sense of forgetting something wouldn't be going away, she turned off the bedroom light.

"Ready?" she asked softly.

Shelby nodded pointing at one of Beth's blankets that was draped over the back of the couch. Santana handed it to her, helping tuck it around the little girl without disturbing her. The car would be warm enough by now, but she'd have to make it from the car to Puck's door.

Santana drove them to Puck's house, Beth whining as she tried to sleep in Shelby's arms. She half-expected him to be asleep when they arrived, but the porch light was on, and she could make out the flicker of a television through the curtains. He came sprinting out of the house just as she put the SUV into park, wearing flannel pants, biker boots, and a coat, but no shirt. He opened the passenger door, helping Shelby out of the tall vehicle.

"Door's open, go ahead," he said to Shelby, who walked quickly toward the house.

"Her bag is on the floor in the back," Santana said.

"Promise you'll let me know what happens?"

"She'll call you as soon as she hears. I promise."

"Thanks. I'm freezing my nips off, so I'm gonna jet. You gals have fun."

"Thank you. See you Sunday."

Puck grabbed Beth's little pink suitcase out of the back and ran back to the house, slowing at the door to enter quietly.

Shelby returned a few minutes later. "Want me to drive?" she asked before buckling her seat belt.

"No, I'd rather, if you don't mind. I don't want to fall asleep again until we're on the plane."

"Fine with me. Coffee?"

"There's no way we're getting on the highway without it. I'm going to order it in an IV," Santana added as she drove them toward the Lima Bean.

* * *

><p>Their drive was uneventful, and they made it through airport security and to their gate in plenty of time. Shelby gave Santana the window seat so she could sleep, which she tried unsuccessfully to accomplish for the first hour of the flight. She was too distracted with thoughts of exploring New York and harassing Rachel and Quinn and the things she was going to do to Shelby that night.<p>

Those things were beginning to dominate her thoughts, and it was turning her on. She cracked her eyes open and glanced sideways at Shelby, who was focused on the few pages of script in her hands that she would be reading at her callback. She was the only person in the cabin with her reading light on. Santana shifted in her seat.

"You okay?" Shelby asked.

"Cold," Santana said with a fake shiver. "They have blankets, don't they?"

"I'll find you one," Shelby said, patting Santana's arm as she unbuckled her seatbelt to step into the aisle. She had to check three overhead compartments, but Shelby eventually found a blanket.

"Mm, thank you," Santana said sleepily, letting Shelby drape it over her. She had put their armrest up while Shelby was out of her seat, and she resituated herself to use Shelby's shoulder as a pillow.

"Comfy?"

"Very." Santana's pulse was already racing. The very thought of what she was trying to do was exciting her, and she struggled to keep her breaths even. She wiggled in her seat again, this time spreading the blanket over Shelby's lap as well.

"Oh, thank you."

"Want you to be warm, too." She let her hand settle on Shelby's knee under the blanket.

Shelby didn't seem to deduce her intentions. If she did, she didn't let on.

Santana let her hand wander along Shelby's thigh, getting startled when they suddenly closed, trapping her.

"What are you doing?" Shelby said under her breath.

"Keeping you warm."

Shelby seemed to hesitate. Santana could almost hear her internal battle. She eventually relaxed, shifting a little in her seat. "I don't know why I'm letting you do this."

Santana forgot to breathe. She had expected her suggestion to be rebuffed. Instead, she had slipped her own hand under the blanket to unbutton her slacks. She had dressed for the audition.

Santana couldn't believe she was letting her do it either. She didn't fully believe it until Shelby turned off her reading light and tilted her seat back a few clicks, appearing to be settling in for sleep. Santana moved slowly, though she was quite confident the dark cabin and blanket would give her all the cover she needed.

Taking a shaky breath, she eased her hand into Shelby's loosened pants, grazing her through satin.

She heard Shelby exhale and felt her shift in her seat again, knee bumping Santana's. She backtracked and slipped her fingertips under Shelby's panties, not hesitating to move her hand back down, feeling Shelby's arousal. She opened her eyes, looking up at Shelby, her cheeks flushed, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She was gorgeous.

Santana was slow. This wasn't a race to the finish. There may not even be a finish. She just wanted Shelby to feel amazing, and from what she could tell, she loved it. Santana pushed her hand lower, easing a finger inside. She heard Shelby start to moan, catching it in her throat. She pressed inward, the palm of her hand fitting against her body perfectly. She held still and watched Shelby's face, eyes darting beneath her eyelids, tongue wetting her lips. She felt her hips trying to move, and Santana gave her a slight reprieve, starting an extremely slow rhythm.

Fifteen minutes passed and Shelby was panting. It was going to be noticeable soon if she didn't calm down, and Santana slowed. "Shhh," she said, a breath in Shelby's ear. "Should I stop?"

"No," Shelby breathed.

"You're too loud."

"Don't stop," Shelby said before biting her lip and turning in her seat just slightly, toward Santana.

Santana figured out her intention and sat up to let her cuddle into her side just as Santana had been doing, head on her shoulder. Shelby's breath was hot against her neck. She dared to move a little faster and she felt Shelby's mouth latch onto her neck. It made Santana want to moan, but at least it would help keep Shelby quiet. She could feel her trembling inside and used more pressure, and then Shelby froze. Santana could feel it, and she knew she was going to have a hickey.

"Oh my God," Shelby finally whispered.

"I know," Santana replied, slowly reclaiming her hand as she turned to kiss Shelby. She let her recover for a few minutes before becoming aware of just how much time had passed since she started their shenanigans. "We're probably going to be landing soon. Act natural."

Santana pulled her hand back completely, stretching her arms over her head before unbuckling her seat belt and sliding past Shelby to make her way to the lavatory at the back of the plane. She ended up throwing away the panties she'd been wearing – it was a better alternative than trying to get them through the plane and back into her bag in the overhead bin – and she could already see the bruise starting to form on her neck. Shelby was waiting when she exited the tiny bathroom, face still flushed and hair a little disheveled, though to anyone else, she looked like she just woke up.

Santana was situated in her seat with a copy of SkyMall Magazine when she returned, looking like her usual well-put-together self.

Shelby leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I can't believe we did that," she said very quietly.

Santana smirked, pride having settled in as she waited for Shelby to compose herself. "You owe me."

"Trust me. I know. Tonight."

Santana tried to not let herself get turned on again thinking about it. Instead, she held Shelby's hand and tilted the magazine so they both could see it. "Do you think we need this microwave s'mores maker?"

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	16. The Audition, Part VII

**A/N:** Now with bonus Faberry!

* * *

><p>Shelby was out the door as soon as they set their luggage down in the hotel room. Her audition was scheduled for noon and it was barely 10:00, but she wanted plenty of time to warm up after being out in the cold air. Santana almost made the mistake of lying down, but managed to get herself into the shower instead. It helped wake her up, though she would be ready for a nap soon.<p>

She was blow-drying her hair when her phone chimed. Rachel was waiting in the lobby. She replied letting her know she would be down soon. Quinn texted a second later, saying she was around the corner – Santana surmised they had actually arrived together but had staggered their announcements to appear as though they hadn't. Santana took her time getting dressed. She wanted Rachel and Quinn to be getting comfortable together, to make it all the more awkward when she arrived. Plus, she couldn't decide if she wanted to wear the black or burgundy sweater. She ended up in the burgundy with her brown boots.

After bundling up in her nice wool pea coat, scarf, and hat, she ventured down to the lobby, eager to run around the city. She had only been once, with New Directions a few years earlier. They had seen many of the major landmarks, but preparing for competition had cramped their style.

As she expected, Rachel and Quinn were standing together in a corner, a little too close for casual conversation. She waited by the elevator a few seconds, knowing they hadn't noticed her yet. When Rachel grabbed Quinn's hand at a particularly animated moment of conversation, she chose to make her presence known.

"Ladies, good morning!" she said, wearing a genuine smile.

The two girls jumped backwards as though they'd been scalded. Santana ignored it and opened her arms to catch Rachel, who was moving in quickly for a hug. "Santana! I can't believe you're here!"

Santana laughed and spun her around before setting her feet back on the ground. "Seeing is believing. Hey, Q."

Quinn's embrace was far less animated, but they had always had a guarded friendship, even when they were on the cheer team together. "Hi."

Rachel was clearly bursting with excitement, so Santana turned back to her. "You better be taking me somewhere awesome."

Rachel jumped up and down and clapped, grabbing Santana's hand to pull her toward the door. "Yes! Come on! Wait, do you have gloves? Never mind, I brought an extra pair just in case."

Santana laughed, letting Rachel drag her. "Come on, Quinn!"

Rachel led them down into a subway station where she bought Santana a pass and took them to a platform. Santana was surprised – she figured Rachel would be opposed to subway travel; they weren't exactly the most sterile, all those people coming and going and touching and coughing on everything. Santana wished she hadn't thought about it, and was glad she had hand sanitizer in her purse. It was a byproduct of her parenting, but it would be quite useful in the city.

"Where are you taking us?" Quinn asked, placing herself so Santana was a buffer between her and Rachel.

"Central Park."

"Ugh, that's not awesome," Santana said, disappointed. "We went there last time."

"Just be patient."

"She's found some interesting places around the city. Have a little faith."

"And how would you know?" Santana asked Quinn.

"Because she's told me about them."

"Never shown you? Shelby said you've been visiting a lot."

Quinn looked away. "Once or twice."

"Train's coming," Rachel announced, standing near the edge of the platform to peer down the tunnel.

"After you," Santana said, stepping aside to let Quinn follow Rachel onto the subway.

The train wasn't packed, but there wasn't space for the three girls to sit together. Santana grabbed the overhead bar, encouraging the other two to take the available seats. They seemed hesitant, but sat down together – closer to one another than was really necessary.

Between the noise of the train and the tinny hip hop blaring from someone's cheap headphones, she couldn't hear what Rachel and Quinn were discussing. They seemed to be trying to keep the conversation private anyway.

"Ours is the next stop, " Rachel said, loud enough for Santana to hear.

"Got it." Santana held on, almost losing her balance when the train lurched back into motion. She really wanted to know what Rachel had planned. She also really wanted to mess with Rachel and Quinn and their now-SO-obvious-to-her relationship. And she wondered how Shelby was doing – it was nearly time for her final audition. She wished she could send a 'Good luck!' text, but knew that was a huge no-no in the theatre world. Instead, she sent some positive mental vibes.

The train lurched to a stop and the girls stepped off, letting Rachel point them toward the exit stairs to lead them up and out and right into Central Park, all bare trees and snow.

"This is it – come on you guys!" Rachel said excitedly.

"I don't get it," Santana said, confused. It was just a park.

"Here, Santana. Put these on," Rachel said handing Santana a thick pair of gloves before stooping down to retie her boot. "Yours aren't waterproof."

As soon as she'd spoken, half a dozen people ran out from behind a wall she hadn't even noticed, charging toward someone, only to pummel them with snowballs. Now Santana saw it. She hadn't noticed the wall because it was white and blended in. There were several of them, various heights and lengths, some with windows cut out of them, spread out across what was clearly a playing field. People were running and dodging and rolling and screaming.

"Snowball fight?" Santana realized.

"Snowball fight!" Rachel sang, pelting first Quinn and then Santana squarely in the chests with snow. She took off running before Santana could react.

Santana and Quinn stared at each other, both surprised. "You got my flank?" Quinn finally said.

"Like old times. Move out." Santana was elated. Rachel had actually come through. There weren't many things Santana would like to be doing outside in the snow, but coordinated battle was always a winning choice.

The two moved quickly, having watched Rachel take cover behind a nearby wall. Quinn led, Santana always checking that the coast was clear. They paused behind the second wall to scrunch together a couple snowballs.

"Rachel seems pretty cool now that we're out of high school," Santana said as she assembled a small pyramid of weaponry.

"She was pretty cool in high school, too," Quinn said casually. "We just didn't treat her like she was."

Santana thought about that. Whether or not Quinn was defending her for personal reasons was irrelevant – the student body, led by Quinn and Santana, had declared Rachel unwanted and loathsome their Freshmen year. She felt bad. She was a bully who knew better but had bullied anyway. She and Rachel had begun to be friendly their Senior year, but even then, she let her pride and concern about her image get in the way of really befriending her– even when the girl wanted so badly to be friends.

Suddenly, tormenting them didn't seem so much fun anymore. She wouldn't want someone making her and Shelby uncomfortable; why should she inflict that onto others – especially her friends?

"We should have," Santana finally said, not forgetting her role of lookout as she peered around the edge of the wall from a crouch. "That doesn't mean we can't kick her ass at this though, right?"

"Please, her ass is grass." Quinn grabbed a few snowballs, lining them up along her arm against her chest. "Clear?"

Santana armed herself as well, this time stealing a quick look over the top. Rachel was out of sight, and thus still hiding behind the wall a few yards away. "Move out."

Quinn eased around the right side, Santana from the left, following a few steps behind her, keeping her eyes focused on the wall hiding their target.

Suddenly, something slammed into Santana's arm. She whirled toward the source just in time to catch Rachel ducking back down behind a completely different wall.

"Three o'clock!" Santana yelled.

Quinn spun and they both ran straight at the wall, snowballs at the ready. Rachel popped up firing, missing her first two throws but catching Quinn's shoulder and Santana's stomach before the two girls fired back. Their aim was off thanks to their running, but Quinn managed to send one right into Rachel's chin, exploding snow up her face before she could take cover once again. It was enough to make the girl shriek, and Santana and Quinn slid to a stop inches from the wall, hands reloaded and cocked.

"Time out! Time out!" Rachel screamed, hands protecting her face as she cowered on her knees. "I'm getting new headshots taken tomorrow, please don't hit my face!"

"Some things never change," Santana laughed. "But we will accept your plea and not aim at your face."

"Thank you," Rachel said, breathing a sigh of relief as she used her scarf to dry her face.

"Time in!" Quinn yelled upon Santana's nod, and they both pitched their snowballs straight down onto Rachel's head and back.

"God damn it, Quinn!" Rachel shrieked.

Santana's eyes went wide and she looked at Quinn, stunned both that Rachel would say that, and that she would say that to Quinn. She was too stunned by Rachel's cursing that she didn't notice Rachel leaping to her feet, hands flinging snowball after snowball at them from what was apparently a very hefty stockpile. One caught Santana in the ear and it was her turn to curse.

"Retreat, Fabray, retreat!" They took off further down the field, snowballs continuing to burst against their backs. Rachel was pursuing them, and Santana dove – literally dove – behind the first shelter she could find. She saw Quinn do the same a few feet away, disappearing from sight.

Unsurprisingly, Rachel decided to pursue Quinn once they had split up, and Santana took a minute to catch her breath. She was grateful for the gloves Rachel had brought for her, because her jeans were already wet from kneeling and sitting in the snow. Her hands would be numb like her ass was becoming if not for them.

Deciding sitting in the snow was not going to make that situation any better, she tugged her hat down and grabbed a couple snowballs that had been left there by the last person to take cover and decided to rescue Quinn. She crept forward in a crouch, unsure if Quinn's allegiance had been compromised. She wasn't shrieking and Rachel wasn't laughing triumphantly any longer. It was very likely Santana was now the one outnumbered.

She moved from wall to tree to wall until she had finally made it to Quinn's. She waited, not hearing anything. Sure she had gotten the jump on them, she leapt up, ready to pummel them, only to find them making out, not plotting an ambush.

"Ugh, get a room!" Santana yelled, dumping all five snowballs on them at once. She was so proud of herself for being right that she wanted to cheer.

The two girls flew apart like repelling magnets, both stuttering and stumbling over explanations that were absurd and laughable as they shook snow out of their hair and off their coats.

"Oh chill out," Santana said, dusting the snow off her gloves. "Ha! Chill out. Get it?"

"Funny," Quinn deadpanned. Her cheeks were red, and Santana didn't know if it was from embarrassment, excitement, or the cold. Maybe all three.

"Santana, I'm sorry, we were going to tell you – "

"Rachel!"

"She saw us, Quinn. She's not blind."

"And I'm not an idiot," Santana added, grinning. "You've been hooking up since we were Juniors, haven't you." It was a statement of fact.

Quinn looked away, which was just as good as an affirmation.

"It just happened one night," Rachel said, surprisingly calm about it. "We didn't plan it."

"You don't need to explain anything. I think it's great."

Quinn looked up, surprised. "You do?"

"Why shouldn't I? I'm not the relationship police. Hell, if I was, I would have had to arrest myself a long time ago."

At that, Quinn and Rachel both laughed. "Yeah, you're the one screwing your teacher."

Rachel gasped and shoved Quinn's arm. "Don't say that!"

"Yeah, Quinn. She's not my teacher. Now she's just my lovaaaaah." She drew out the word, waggling her eyebrows at Rachel.

"Ew!" Rachel grabbed a handful of snow and flung it at Santana's face, making her sputter.

"I thought we said no faces!" Santana unwrapped her scarf, wiping the melted snow out of her eyes.

"Holy crap, Santana. Hickey much?" Quinn asked, pointing at the angry bruise on Santana's neck.

Rachel groaned, turning away to hide her face against Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn laughed, wrapping her arm around the other girl to hold her close.

"What can I say? She got excited."

Rachel whined and attempted to cover her ears with her gloved hands.

"That's what you get for keeping this from me for so long!" Santana said, loud enough for Rachel to hear. She wrapped her scarf around her neck again and took a step back. "Alright, come on, Rach. You and me this time. You better pray you can hide, Quinny-Quinn."

After another hour, Santana was too frozen to continue. Her jeans were somewhere between a state of soaking and freezing, her toes were numb, and her face was raw. She shivered the whole train ride back, and the three-block walk from the subway stop to the hotel was murderous.

"That was awesome, Rachel," Santana said, teeth chattering. "I needed that."

"You're welcome," Rachel said with a grin. She and Quinn had been holding hands since they left the snowball field. "Oh, will one of you let me know about Shelby's audition?"

"Me, too," Quinn added.

"Yeah, of course. I mean, obviously," she said, nodding at Quinn. "And I guess obviously for you, too," she said to Rachel. "You know, it's not like our lives weren't complicated enough already – you two are turning our family tree into a wreath."

Quinn blushed but Rachel burst out laughing.

"And on that note, I'm freezing my tits off, so once again Rachel, thank you," Santana said, hugging Rachel. She turned to Quinn next, hugging her tightly. "You don't have to keep things from me," she said quietly. "We'll always be friends."

"Thank you," Quinn said, hugging her just as tightly. They parted after a few moments.

"I'm glad you two are happy. You look good together."

Quinn smiled a little sheepishly, bumping Rachel's shoulder with her own.

Santana leaned back in to whisper – loudly – to Quinn, "But watch out; these Corcoran women bite."

She heard Rachel squeak, and her day had been made. She bid her friends adieu and hurried back up to the hotel room. It was still empty. She shed her outerwear and sweater and soaked jeans, tossing them over the heater by the window, and jumped into the shower. The hot water felt scalding on her ice-cold skin, and it took several minutes for it to not be painful.

Finally, she was able to relax and she stood under the warm spray. She heard the bathroom door creak. She panicked for a second, and called out, "Shelby?"

"It's me."

Santana relaxed, pulling the shower curtain to the side just enough for her face. "Hi!"

"Hi, baby," Shelby said, leaning past the shower curtain to kiss Santana.

Santana dropped the curtain back into place. "How'd it go?"

"They're making their decision tonight."

Santana's hands slowed their lathering. This whole adventure was either going to get very real very soon, or be over. It was actually kind of scary. "Wow."

"I know. I can't let myself think about it; it'll drive me crazy. How was your time with Rachel and Quinn?"

"Oh, it was cool! Rachel found this, like, snowball fight field, like one of those places you can go play paintball? Except it was for snowballs."

"That sounds like fun! Who won?"

Santana whipped the curtain back again, flexing her left arm like a body builder. "Did you seriously just ask me that? Who do you think?"

They had never officially declared a winner. In fact, if they had, judging by who remained the driest, she would have been in last place. Between Quinn's ferocity and Rachel's pent up urge for revenge, Santana had spent much of the game running, hiding, and getting tackled into snow banks.

"Sorry," Shelby laughed, holding her hands up apologetically. "You want some company in there, Hulk?"

Santana considered it, but the hotel's bathtub and shower layout was not ideal for such a thing. They'd end up bruised to hell or someone would get a cramp. "I'm almost finished. Meet you in bed?"

"Okay. Don't keep me waiting."

Santana heard the door click closed, and she finished her shower. She dried off best she could with the cheap scratchy hotel towels and wrapped one around her body to leave the bathroom.

Shelby was in bed, no longer in her dressy audition outfit but rather in one of her worn out 1980's concert T-shirts that Santana always found so sexy on her – it made her seem kind of tomboyish, which only added to her appeal. It appeared to be _all_ she was wearing. That added to her appeal, too. She was sitting up against the headboard watching TV.

"Anything good on?" Santana asked as she sat on the edge of the bed, using a second towel to wring excess water from her hair.

"Not really." She felt Shelby's fingernails on her shoulder blade, scratching lightly. She didn't know her back was itching, but suddenly it was everywhere. "Ooh, up. Up. To the left. A little higher. Higher. Oh, God, yeah right there," she groaned, leaning into the relief.

Shelby laughed. "Turn around and let me make you say those things for a better reason."

Santana shivered at her tone. She got back up and hung up the towel from her hair in the bathroom, stopping to hover in the doorway to make sure she had Shelby's attention.

"Lose it," Shelby demanded.

Santana dropped her towel, a thrill running through her body at the way Shelby was acting. She rarely told her what to do like this.

"Now get over here."

Santana took the few steps, climbing into bed. Shelby rolled right onto her, bringing their mouths together. She was being aggressive with her kisses, and Santana found herself failing to reciprocate. She kept trying, but she couldn't focus. She was so warm, and Shelby smelled so good, and the bed was so comfortable, and she had been running all morning, and 3:00am was eleven hours ago, and

"Santana?"

"Huhwhat?" Santana jumped.

"Did you really just fall asleep?"

"I…no…I…what?" She couldn't keep her eyes open.

"Damn," Shelby said, chuckling. "Go to sleep."

Santana felt Shelby move off to lie along side her. Santana turned and curled into her, out like a light.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	17. The Audition, Part VIII

**A/N #1:** So this is, you know, one of those extremely "mature" chapters. People can be sensitive about trigger warnings, so without giving too much away, yet giving everything away, it involves some innocuous roleplay and something that Shelby knows Santana wants to try.

**A/N #2:** I know people really want Santana to be more Snixx-y, but just know that I don't do angst very well unless it is intended to lead to the demise of the relationship. So be careful what you wish for.

* * *

><p>Santana stirred some time later. The room was peaceful and she was warm and comfortable and she curled herself further under the blanket until just her eyes were above it. She cracked one open to see Shelby sitting up and reading the book Santana had brought for herself. She was wearing her glasses – rectangular wire frames – and Santana bit her lip. Shelby almost never wore them. She didn't need them on a daily basis, and it was rare that something demanded she wore them. The book must have had particularly small print. The glasses made her look all scholarly and sexy and had Shelby worn them when she was subbing at McKinley, Santana was pretty sure they would have gotten Shelby fired and Santana expelled, because there was no way she would have been able to not jump her right there in front of the class.<p>

Santana inched her foot along under the covers until she found Shelby's. She wiggled her toe against the sole of her foot. Shelby smiled, but didn't look away from her book, so Santana worked a hand out of the tangle of sheets and reached for Shelby's leg under the covers. She trailed her fingers along her thigh, higher to her hip, and over to sneak under the edge of Shelby's T-shirt and rest her hand on her stomach.

Shelby hadn't looked up from her book, that little smile on her lips her only acknowledgment of Santana's touch.

Santana stilled, relishing the moment. Sometimes she felt heart-burstingly happy. This was one of those times. She moved her leg over Shelby's to pull herself closer, wrapping her arm around her waist, her face pressed against Shelby's side for an awkward but comfortable embrace.

She felt a hand on the top of her head. "Waking up, cuddlebug?"

"You smell good." Her voice was muffled, but Shelby made it out well enough.

"Just our fabric softener."

Santana inhaled deeply. It wasn't just the fabric softener. She could pick out the tones of the vanilla body wash and the cherry-almond lotion she used religiously. She resituated herself so she could see Shelby's face again, turning onto her back to lie somewhat perpendicular in bed, using Shelby's lap as a pillow. Shelby accommodated her, lifting her arms and book until she was still and then resumed reading.

She looked up at Shelby. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Why are you being so lovey-dovey?"

"I need a reason?"

"Well, no. But I like it."

"You should wear your glasses more."

"Why?"

"They make me want to fuck you senseless."

Shelby's eyebrows shot up, though she didn't take her eyes off her book. "So much for the lovey-dovey."

Santana grinned and sat up, pushing the covers off them both to straddle Shelby's lap and take the book from her. "Do you not understand how hot they make you?"

"You didn't think I was already?" Shelby rested her hands on Santana's bare thighs.

"Oh I do," Santana replied, combing her fingers through Shelby's hair to pull it back into a few temporary styles and evaluating the results. "But I'm allowed to have a teacher kink after seducing my teacher."

"Substitute."

"Semantics," Santana said with a shrug as she let Shelby's hair fall back into place. "You gave in to my advances when you were in a position of authority over me."

Shelby started to smile. "You like when I'm in charge."

"And?"

"You always act so tough."

"Hey, I _am_ tough!" Santana retorted, offended.

"Are you?" Shelby questioned, grabbing Santana's wrists to pull her arms straight at her sides.

"You know I am." Santana tried to jerk her arms away but Shelby wouldn't let go. Her heart started pounding. This wasn't where she had expected their afternoon to go, but she didn't care about playing tourist if Shelby was going to start playing teacher. Their sex life was great, but was rarely adventurous since they began living together. The moment on the airplane was a huge deviation, one that Santana still questioned whether or not she had dreamt it. Plus, she was talking. Shelby barely talked in bed. Not like this, anyway.

"Then why can't you get away from me?"

Santana jerked her arms again, but she had no intention of escape. She was already so turned on she could barely think straight. "What are you going to do with me?"

She could see the answer in Shelby's eyes, and she waited, knowing she was trying to work up the nerve to respond.

"I can't."

"Yes you can." Santana leaned forward and kissed Shelby roughly. She pulled back when she felt her arms tugged. "It's just me. Don't be shy."

"Why do I have to say it? I can show you."

"Because your voice makes me wet."

Shelby's eyes darkened. "It does?"

"Mhm. Don't believe me?"

Shelby paused, hands twitching a little and Santana wondered if she was going to check for herself. "Lying is against the rules."

Santana smiled, sitting back a little. "There are rules?"

Shelby flushed and looked away, mumbling, "Teachers have rules."

Santana leaned to kiss her again. She wanted her as aroused as she was, and she knew Shelby had it in her to play – she just needed to stop worrying that she would embarrass herself.

She broke the kiss to whisper in her ear, "I'll be a good student, Ms. Corcoran." Santana felt Shelby's lips on her neck soothing the bruise from that morning. "What are your rules?"

"My classroom rules?"

"Mhm." Santana could barely think. Even when Santana was still a student, they hadn't carried the dynamic into bed.

"Same rules I have for all my classes."

"I'm a rebel. I don't pay attention to the rules. Better remind me."

Shelby let go of her wrists, hands moving back to Santana's thighs. Her mouth was on the other side of her neck, and Santana wondered if she was about to have matching hickeys.

"Ask permission."

"For what?"

"Everything."

"Can I kiss you?"

"May I."

"May I kiss you?"

"You may."

Shelby lifted her chin just in time for Santana to claim her mouth. Shelby's tongue was winning the battle for dominance, and Santana surrendered, letting her control their kiss. The screen-printing of Shelby's old T-shirt was rough against Santana's bare chest and she wanted it off and the scratching to stop. She reached for the bottom of the shirt, and gasped when her hands were slapped away.

"Hey!"

"Ask permission."

Santana hadn't expected Shelby to truly commit to this. It was one thing to play around, but if she was into going for it…

"May I take your shirt off?"

"No," Shelby replied simply, sitting back and straightening her glasses that had been bumped askew.

"No?"

"No, you may not. Now, move aside and let me up."

Santana didn't want to get off her lap, but the look Shelby gave her would have made her cower in a different situation. She swung her leg back off her and sit on the bed. In doing so, she realized she actually really needed to use the bathroom.

"Time out," she said, moving to climb off the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Shelby asked. She had gotten out of bed and was digging through her suitcase.

"I gotta pee, I'll be right back."

"Rule number two is to attend to your personal needs before coming to class," she replied casually, not looking up.

She really did have to pee. Like, really. "Um. You're kidding, right?"

Shelby laughed and waved her hand over her shoulder. "Of course I am. Go."

Santana was quick. She hated having to break the moment after it took so much coaxing, but there was no way she would get through it otherwise. When she returned, Shelby was leaning against the dresser, arms crossed. She had clipped her hair up similar to the way Santana was playing with it and had put on a pair of black heels. And she was still wearing her glasses. And the concert T-shirt. It made for a silly but sexy outfit.

"You're tardy. Sit."

Santana couldn't believe she was actually following through with it. She rushed to sit on the edge of the bed.

"And you're in complete violation of the dress code."

Santana had gone to bed naked before falling asleep and she hadn't had reason or opportunity to get dressed. She grabbed the sheet and pulled it around her body.

Shelby pushed away from the dresser and paced slowly. "I don't tolerate students disrespecting my rules."

Santana flipped a mental coin for her response – nice or naughty. "Rules don't apply to hot girls like me."

Shelby stopped and turned to face Santana. "My rules are applicable _only_ to hot girls like you."

Santana smirked. "Then I guess I'm fucked."

"Not yet," Shelby said as she approached Santana. She stood in front of her, looking down her nose.

Santana forgot about holding the sheet up and reached for Shelby. She ran her hands up the backs of her thighs, quick to grab her bare backside, barely hidden by the T-shirt.

Shelby stepped back and out of her reach, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. "You didn't ask permission. And you're breaking the dress code again."

Santana started to pull the sheet back over her, but then stopped and deliberately threw it aside challengingly.

"What am I going to do with you? You refuse to follow the rules."

Santana leaned back, arms supporting her. "Are you going to give me detention, Ms. Corcoran?"

Shelby waved her hand dismissively. "Girls like you never learn from detention. You have no respect for authority."

"You have no idea how hot this is," Santana said, breaking character.

Shelby's demeanor changed. "Really? It's not silly?"

"No. Keep going."

Shelby cleared her throat and squared herself to Santana, arms still crossed over her chest. "This is my classroom and you're going to learn to respect my rules."

"Jesus," Santana said under her breath.

Shelby was moving forward again, but it was with such confidence and presence that it actually made Santana have the urge to shrink back. She stopped when their legs grazed. Santana could tell she was blushing a little despite her poise.

"You aren't in charge anymore." Shelby unfolded her arms. There, dangling off her index finger was a pair of gleaming metal handcuffs.

Santana's arms and heart almost gave out.

"Are you ready to learn your lesson?"

"Uh…" She couldn't form words. Letters made no sense. There were no words, no sentences in her brain, just the polished stainless steel rings in front of her face.

"Sweetheart?" Shelby prodded, her tone gentle. "Is this okay?"

Santana managed to look up, nodding dumbly. "Uh huh."

Shelby flicked her wrist a few times to spin the cuffs around her finger like a pinwheel. "Tell me if you want to stop," she said, cupping Santana's cheek in her other hand. She held her face a moment and then trailed her hand down Santana's neck to her shoulder, down her arm to grasp her wrist.

Santana only shook her head and closed her eyes. Her right arm was pulled out from under her and she felt the cold metal hit her wrist. It sent a shudder through her as she heard it click closed. Her arm swung back, pulled by the cuff until she was forced to move backwards further onto the bed.

Her arm was released and she caught herself from falling back.

"Look at me."

Santana pried her eyes open to see Shelby standing back at the foot of the bed.

"The rest of my rules."

"What are they?" Santana's voice cracked when she spoke.

"Number three: remain in your seat unless I've allowed you to get up."

Santana nodded, intent on staying in that bed the rest of her life.

"Number four…" Shelby hesitated, taking a breath. "No eating in the classroom without my permission."

Santana whimpered. She knew she wasn't talking about lunch.

Shelby moved to kneel on the bed and then crawled forward, forcing Santana onto her back as she moved over her to straddle her hips.

"But the Golden Rule…" She grasped Santana's free wrist and moved it up and above her head, quickly yanking the other up by the cuff just hard enough to make Santana wince.

"Golden Rule?"

"The Golden Rule…" Shelby closed the other cuff around Santana's left wrist. She looked down, meeting Santana's eyes. "Don't come without my permission."

"Jesus Christ…you have no idea…" Santana lifted her arms up to see her restraints but Shelby pushed her hands back to the mattress. She craned her neck to try to see them again but Shelby got in the way by kissing her.

Santana moaned into the kiss and let Shelby control it as she pleased. Her lip was bitten more than once.

Shelby sat back suddenly, leaving Santana's chest heaving. She reached for the clip in her hair and removed it, her long brunette waves falling over her shoulders. This was becoming fantasy turned reality and Santana thanked her lucky stars for it.

"No, leave them on," she blurted when Shelby reached for her glasses.

She paused, glasses in hand. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

Santana exhaled hard, still struggling to catch her breath. "Please leave them on, Ms. Corcoran."

Shelby considered the request and set the glasses aside to cross her arms to grab the edge of her T-shirt and pull it up and off in one swift motion. The shirt was tossed away and she picked up her glasses, slipping them back on. "Because you asked nicely," she said, smiling a little.

"Thank you," Santana breathed. It was almost getting to be too much, Shelby in her glasses, straddling her, wearing nothing but those glasses and the heels she hadn't kicked off before getting into bed. "Fuck, you are so hot right now."

Shelby's hand clapped over Santana's mouth, startling her. "If I had a paddle, you'd be spanked for using such vulgar language in my class."

The way she said it really did intimidate Santana a little, and she nodded, pursing her lips to kiss Shelby's palm before she removed it.

"Do you like what you see?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ma'am?" Shelby paused, and then smiled. "Oh, I like that."

Santana smiled, too. Shelby was into this. Like, _into_ it. She wondered what else she was into but didn't know about yet.

"Would you like to touch me?"

Santana nodded. "Very much so, ma'am."

"You may not," Shelby said sharply as she backed up a little to rest her hands low on Santana's abdomen. Her fingers teased moving lower and Santana's hips lifted at the touch, making them both moan from the contact. Shelby pushed Santana down with a hand to her abdomen. "It's not time for that yet."

"Fuck…I mean, I'm sorry," she said quickly when Shelby shot her a look. "I just want you so much, Ms. Corcoran."

"I know you do, darling." Shelby's hands started traveling north, sometimes her fingernails dragging, sometimes her fingertips tickling, all of it making Santana shiver. She slowed when she reached Santana's breasts, barely grazing the lower curves.

Santana gasped. Her nerves were quickly being shattered, each touch growing more intense. She arched her back best she could to try to force her breasts into Shelby's hands, but it was in vain. Shelby simply moved with her, trailing her fingertips up her curves ever so slowly until they ghosted over sensitive tips.

The contact made Santana try to reach for her, but her right arm anchored her left to remind her of her position. Shelby stopped when Santana moved, staring right into her eyes until she dropped her hands above her head again, earning a satisfied nod from Shelby as she resumed the attention she was giving Santana's breasts. She didn't hover long, sliding her hands up her chest and over her collarbones, sending shivers down Santana's back at the light touch. Shelby's hands moved around her neck and slid into her hair, lifting her from the pillow as she leaned down to kiss Santana. It was slow and gentle. Shelby teased with her tongue, not quite kissing her deeply. She held back just enough to make Santana chase her kiss, and as soon as she did, Shelby claimed her mouth completely.

Santana was almost writhing under her, desperate for relief. Something told her it was still far off, but even the slightest touch where she needed it would be a godsend. Shelby finally broke their kiss and Santana stared at her lips, wet and red and swollen and begging to be kissed again. She made a move to sit up and do just that but Shelby pulled back.

"Still okay?" Shelby whispered, just as breathless as Santana.

"Yes, ma'am," Santana said, not willing to break character again.

"This is really hot," she replied, grinning down at Santana.

"Yes, ma'am," Santana said, smiling back.

Shelby reached a hand up, catching the small chain links between Santana's handcuffs. She pulled, extending Santana's arms a little more, but not enough to be uncomfortable. She had to move up and lean forward to do it, and her breasts were dangerously close to Santana's face.

Santana whimpered. "Ms. Corcoran?"

Shelby pressed Santana's hands down, indicating they should stay where she had placed them. She looked down to meet Santana's eyes. "Yes, Santana?"

Santana glanced to Shelby's breasts and back up at her, licking her lips. "May I?"

"Yes, you may," Shelby answered, voice wavering a little. She moved her hand to the bed to support herself, the other behind Santana's head.

Santana lifted her head from the pillow to close the few inches between her lips and Shelby's right breast to cover the tip with her mouth and bathe it with her tongue. Shelby moaned and pressed closer, and Santana pulled at it with her lips, fluttering her tongue over it after letting it go. She immediately moved for the other breast, but Shelby pulled her back, firmly, by the hold she had of her hair, making Santana groan in pleasure and frustration.

"You have quite the mouth on you, young lady," Shelby said, breathless as she sat upright and completely out of reach.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Corcoran."

"What are we going to do about that?" Shelby was working her way up slowly, on her knees.

Santana absolutely loved that Shelby had worked this out in her own favor. She knew exactly where Shelby was going with this, and the fact that she had thought it out to get what she wanted was beyond exciting. Santana brought her arms down, slipping them through the space between Shelby's legs as she moved higher, until her knees were next to Santana's shoulders.

"Do you want me to show you just how naughty my mouth can be?" Santana asked, starting to feel a little drunk. She bent her elbows and her forearms pushed Shelby closer.

"I think you need to. It's the only way I'll know how to discipline you."

Santana started to lift her head but stopped, looking up at Shelby. What rule had it been… "Number four," Santana said. Her fingers massaged Shelby's lower back. "May I have permission to eat, Ms. Corcoran?"

"Yes, you may. Oh, God…"

Santana had acted quickly, dragging her tongue over her. Shelby was so turned on that she actually struggled to create enough friction to be effective. Santana was no quitter, though, and Shelby was rocking against her within minutes, one hand on the headboard, the other tangled in Santana's hair.

Santana squeezed her own thighs together, twisting, yearning for relief. All this had worked her up to the point of climax and Shelby moving against her tongue more quickly was doing nothing to lessen the need. It was all she could do to cling to the Golden Rule.

"Santana…my God…fuck…" Shelby's words came as moans that made Santana strive for perfection. She was on her way to an A+ in this class if the way Shelby's hips were moving was any indication. Suddenly she froze, and she pulled Santana's hair so hard it made her yelp – not that Shelby noticed. Santana pressed hard with her tongue and Shelby's hips jerked, and the groan came a moment later. Her climax nearly pushed Santana over the edge and she forced her own hips to stop the desperate rocking they had started on their own accord.

Shelby dropped her head to her forearm along the headboard, her fingers relaxing and releasing the death grip they had on Santana's hair. "Oh my God…"

Santana raised her eyebrows in question, mouth still otherwise occupied, since she hadn't been told to stop.

"That was so good, baby."

Santana pressed a kiss to her warmth just as she slid herself backward to be sitting astride Santana's waist again. Shelby pushed Santana's arms back above her head and out of the way so she could lean down and bring their mouths together. Her tongue twisted with Santana's and her teeth pulled her lower lip before she moved back, kissing down her neck.

Santana was overjoyed. It was finally her turn and, God willing, Shelby didn't seem to be playing the teasing game. Her kiss traveled over Santana's breast so briefly she didn't even have a chance to express her appreciation before it was down her stomach and between her legs.

That allowed Santana to find her voice, and she moaned, lifting her hips to Shelby's mouth only to be pressed back down. Santana accepted the silent directive and tried to keep herself still, letting Shelby do as she pleased. And what she pleased, it appeared, was to see how quickly she could bring Santana off.

"Oh…Ms. Corcoran…" Santana had to pause to breathe, another wave of arousal washing over her, almost taking her over the edge. "Please…I can't…"

Shelby eased back, fingers taking over for her tongue. "Did you have a question, Santana?"

"Please. Please, may I come?" Even asking the question nearly set her off, and she bit the inside of her cheek, hard, to stop it.

"You asked so nicely. Are you finally learning respect for rules?"

"Yes, ma'am," Santana croaked, knowing she wouldn't be able to hold on any longer.

"Then you may come."

Santana felt her tongue return and she was done. Stars exploded behind her eyelids and she struggled to breathe, the waves of pleasure coming so closely together.

And then she was nearly lifeless, gasping for air as she was vaguely aware that Shelby was moving. She felt her settle against the tops of her thighs and a moment later, her arms were guided back down, her hands resting on her own stomach. Her shoulders ached, something she hadn't noticed until her brain started clearing. She felt the metal sliding against her skin and then heard a metallic click as one cuff disappeared and then the other. She let her arms fall to her sides, grateful they weren't bound any longer.

She finally managed to get her eyes open and looked up at Shelby just in time to see her remove her glasses and set them on the nightstand.

"So, did I pass?" Santana asked with a breathy laugh.

"Oh, sweetheart," Shelby said, grinning as she framed Santana's face with her hands, "You definitely got an A+." She leaned down and kissed Santana gently.

Realizing she could actually control her arms, Santana wrapped them around Shelby and pulled until she was lying on top of her instead of hovering. She wanted to feel her close. "So, was that all okay?" she asked when their lips parted.

"Yeah, it was fine. I mean, it was amazing. I didn't think it would be like that."

"Did your star pupil teach you something today?"

Shelby laughed and kissed her again. "I guess she did."

"Don't lose those handcuffs."

"Did they hurt you? I thought you were going to break them a few minutes ago."

Santana hadn't even realized that she had been fighting the restraint. No wonder her wrists were sore. "I'll be fine. Just don't lose them."

Shelby grinned and propped her head up on a fist to carry on their conversation more comfortably. "You want to use them again?"

Santana nodded, dragging her fingernails up Shelby's back. "On you."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	18. The Audition, Part IX

**A/N:** I've been in a mood. These chapters are what happen when I'm in a mood. Though is anyone complaining?

* * *

><p>Hunger finally dragged Santana and Shelby out of bed. They had spent the better part of the afternoon napping, talking, and cuddling, but when Shelby's stomach growled startlingly loud, they resigned to the necessity.<p>

Santana could tell Shelby was getting anxious. It was after 5:00 and the promised phone call from the casting director could come at any time. She checked her phone constantly even though it was right next to her on the table.

"It's on vibrate; I don't want to miss it," Shelby responded when Santana told her to chill.

"If it's on vibrate, both of us will feel it. You aren't going to miss it."

They were at a diner a few blocks from their hotel. Their original intent, prior to the trip, was to make the most of the city and dine at fancy, upscale places, but neither of them felt like doing more than scrubbing their faces, hiding messy hair under beanies, and putting on comfortable clothes. And so they had ended up at a diner, Santana with all the makings of a Thanksgiving dinner in front of her (she hadn't realized ordering the roasted turkey would result such a thing), Shelby with a plate of pasta and meatballs – and about half of Santana's meal. Apparently when she was nervous, Shelby ate. Santana was the opposite and she didn't understand how she could do it with all those nerves.

On cue, Shelby's phone buzzed and she nearly choked on her mouthful of penne.

"It's Puck," she said after coughing. Whatever it was made her laugh and she started coughing again. She handed the phone to Santana after checking the text message.

"You have got to take it down a few notches or you're going to have a stroke," Santana said before reading Puck's message.

"_Beth is good,"_ was all it said, but it was attached to a photo of the little girl sitting in a bathtub nearly covered head to toe in paint.

"I really hope that's finger paint," Santana said, smiling at the photo before returning the phone.

"Me, too," Shelby said as she typed out a response and went back to her pasta.

Her phone didn't ring during dinner. It didn't ring on the walk back to the hotel either. Nor did it while they undressed to climb back into bed together to try to relax.

Three-and-a-half episodes into a _Friends_ marathon, it came. Shelby had set her ringer so loud that it made them both jump. She scrabbled for the phone and Santana grabbed her hand, stopping her from answering it.

"Whatever happens, know that I love you and nothing will change that."

Shelby squeezed Santana's hand and answered. "Hello?...Yes, this is she." She gestured at the television and Santana found the remote to mute it.

Santana strained to hear the other end of the conversation, but Shelby got out of bed to pace. Her voice was steady, but Santana could see how unsettled she was.

"Okay…Yes…Yes, of course…No, thank you…I appreciate your time…I understand…Have a nice weekend." She had paced her way into the corner, her back to Santana.

Santana held her breath, waiting. Shelby's phone hit the carpet as she dropped her face to her hands and burst into tears.

"Shit," Santana whispered, scrambling out of bed to get to her. She grabbed Shelby from behind, holding her tightly.

Shelby turned around after a few moments and wrapped her arms around Santana, head on her shoulder as she cried.

"Shh," Santana said, rubbing her back. "I love you. It'll be okay. You'll be okay."

Shelby shook her head and squeezed her tighter.

"This is nothing. It's nothing. We'll go home and we'll be okay."

"No," Shelby managed between sobs, shaking her head again.

"Shh," Santana said again, petting her hair. Shelby's breakdown was killing Santana and tears were starting to sting her eyes. It was rare that Shelby ever lost her composure, let alone to this degree; it was starting to make Santana nervous on top of the devastation. "Baby, it's all right. There will be more auditions."

"No," Shelby repeated, lifting her head to push away the streams of tears. "No more auditions."

Santana helped dry her cheeks, trying her best not to cry. "You aren't a quitter. You're amazing. You are an amazing woman. This was just the beginning. And you made it all the way to the last round!"

Shelby shook her head emphatically. "Stop talking!"

"I'm sorry," Santana said. She felt helpless as the tears kept streaming down Shelby's face and her own finally started falling.

"I got it."

Santana blinked. "What?"

Shelby threw her arms around Santana's neck again. "I got it!"

Santana, bewildered, wrapped her arms around Shelby's waist as she knocked her back a few steps. "You got it?"

"Uh huh!" She was sobbing again.

"You got it?!"

"Uh huh!"

Suddenly, Shelby jumped and Santana caught her as her legs wrapped around Santana's waist. She stumbled until she ran into the bed and sat, almost tipping backwards from the momentum with Shelby in her lap. She was still trying to process what was happening when she realized she was being kissed. She returned it for a moment and then leaned back, mind reeling. "You got the part?!"

Shelby nodded and tried to dry her tears again, but it was futile. "They offered me a six-month contract," she managed between hiccupping breaths.

Santana's hands flew to her mouth, gasping, the reality hitting her. "Oh my God!"

"I know!" Shelby said, starting to laugh as she kept trying to make the tears stop. "Oh no, don't you cry, too!"

Santana laughed and pulled Shelby back into a hug. She felt so overwhelmed; she couldn't imagine what Shelby must be feeling. She didn't know what to do or say. Nothing seemed appropriate for the moment, so she just held her and kissed her shoulder and stroked her back.

Time passed. She didn't know how much. At some point, she had settled her cheek against Shelby's chest. Santana's arms had grown tired and were loose around her waist, though Shelby's hands were still caressing her arms and back slowly.

"Rehearsals start in three weeks," Shelby said quietly, though her voice echoed in her chest against Santana's ear.

The gravity of the statement started sinking in and pulled Santana out of her reverie. She pressed a kiss to Shelby's skin and sat back a little to look up at a drained- but serene-looking Shelby.

"So I guess we're looking for a new place tomorrow, not just a neighborhood we might like." The thought was a little intimidating, but exciting.

It must have shown, because Shelby responded with, "It'll be okay, sweetheart. I'm nervous, too."

Santana nodded and Shelby kissed her gently. "Do you want to celebrate?"

Shelby smiled. "What did you have in mind?"

Santana moved her hands over Shelby's backside, squeezing it playfully. "We could go find a liquor store and get wasted before you go on your nutso routine."

Shelby laughed, squirming in Santana's lap. "I don't want to go out. We'd have to get dressed. I like this naked thing"

It was Santana's turn to laugh and she pursed her lips to ask for a kiss, which Shelby gave her quickly. "Then let's check the room service menu and see what is worthy of commemorating this."

"Okay," Shelby said, pecking Santana's lips one more time before sliding backwards off Santana's lap to her feet to find the room service menu on the small desk.

Santana liked this naked thing, too. It was comfortable, and fun, and convenient, and they couldn't be this way at home – not all day like this. She got up, too, and followed Shelby, wrapping her arms around her waist. Shelby leaned back against her and held up the menu to share it but Santana was preoccupied, her lips traveling along Shelby's shoulder. Now that the weeks of anxiety and unknown were over, she felt incredibly relaxed. They existed in a vacuum, no auditions to stress over, no child to care for, no jobs, and no responsibilities but to each other. She loved their life and everything about it, but the seclusion made her feel as though her batteries were recharging.

Her hands were on Shelby's stomach, moving over her slowly to trace the contours of the muscles that supported her incredible voice. Now, though, Shelby was humming quietly as she browsed the menu. Santana looked over her shoulder, noticing they were in front of the hotel room's only window and the curtains weren't drawn. Their room was high – the thirty-fourth floor – and the surrounding buildings were all corporate and shut down for the weekend so she wasn't concerned about being seen, but the darkness outside and the lights inside essentially turned the window into a mirror and she smiled. Wicked thoughts ran through her mind.

She kissed Shelby's shoulder again, close to her neck, this time biting it gently. Shelby tilted her head a little and kept humming as Santana's hands changed course, moving in opposite directions. Shelby's humming stopped when Santana's left hand covered her breast and her breath caught when Santana's right slipped between her legs.

"Santana…" she breathed, grabbing the back of the chair in front of her.

"Hmm?" Santana teased her with both hands and lifted herself to her tiptoes to kiss the shell of Shelby's ear. "Look up."

Santana watched the realization hit Shelby and saw the menu fall out of her hand to land on the desk. "What if someone sees?"

"Lucky them," Santana answered, feeling Shelby's increasing excitement. She kissed across Shelby's back to her other shoulder and tried to get to her neck, but her hair was in the way. Shelby reached up and pulled it to the side and her encouragement fueled Santana. She wasn't teasing anymore.

She looked up again, annoyed that the desk's chair was blocking the best part of the view, so pulled them back and rolled the chair out of the way. She used the moment to swap her hands' positions, wanting to use her more dexterous hand for this. She wanted it to be quick and intense.

"Do you see yourself?" she asked.

Shelby's right breast was covered by Santana's right hand, the left moving roughly between her legs. She nodded, a moan escaping when Santana pressed harder. Shelby craned her neck to the left and Santana stretched herself taller again, straining to kiss each other. It wasn't easy, and they "settled" for letting their tongues play.

It was too difficult to do everything and do it well, so Santana lowered her heels and kissed Shelby's back. Her breast was heavy in her hand and she rolled its hardened tip between her fingers.

She felt Shelby's hand on her hip, pulling her closer. Shelby was rocking – best she could in her upright position – and the step forward pressed her pelvis into her backside. Shelby's rhythm transferred to Santana and she moaned at the indirect contact.

"I see you," Shelby finally answered as her right hand shot forward to catch herself against the desk as she bent over, unable to stay upright any longer.

Santana had to let go of her breast to accommodate the change in position but compensated by moving her fingers more quickly over the swollen bundle of nerves. Shelby wasn't watching the window anymore, her head hanging listlessly as she moaned. Santana watched, though, and the moments Shelby would lift her head, lost in pleasure, were some of the most erotic visions of Santana's life. She made a mental note to add a well-placed mirror in their bedroom ASAP.

She dragged her fingernails down Shelby's back and Shelby arched with the touch. She was moaning loudly, now, and Santana had an amusing thought that it was going to suck to be whomever was in the room next to theirs this weekend.

Suddenly, Shelby cried out and Santana caught her around the waist with her right arm, supporting her as her body lurched and shuddered. Santana felt her find her bearings after a few moments and she trusted her to support herself again so she could graze her fingers along Shelby's spine, drawing goosebumps and a shiver out of her.

She was still moaning, though it was quiet and lethargic, thanks to Santana's slow, indulgent attention. Santana had gotten her quick and intense moment, and now she wanted to enjoy it. Shelby finally straightened, leaning back against Santana's chest. One hand reached back to hold Santana's hip again, the other moving over the hand still spoiling her.

Santana met her eyes in the window's reflection and Shelby smiled. Her chest was still heaving. "How's that for a celebration?" Santana asked, reaching a little further to slip inside just to revel in the connection.

"I'm going to hire you for all my parties from now on," Shelby said, her smile widening.

"I'm not sure how the other guests would feel about my methods." Santana moved her free hand back to Shelby's breast, caressing its curve.

Shelby sighed happily and picked up the forgotten menu, resuming her browsing. It made Santana laugh and she kissed her shoulder while she actually read the proffered menu. "Should we be stereotypical? Champagne and strawberries?"

"Do they come with whipped cream?" Santana asked, nipping Shelby's shoulder playfully.

"At some point, we _are_ going to have to stop making love and go do things," Shelby said as she turned the page.

"Yeah. Tomorrow," Santana said with a pointed move of her hand to make Shelby yelp.

Shelby laughed once the surprise passed and eased Santana's hand away. "Give me a chance to recover first. Do you want food? I'm hungry."

Santana almost gagged. She was still full from dinner and Shelby had eaten far more than she. "How are you hungry?!" she asked, flabbergasted.

"Just let me eat before I start worrying about fitting into costumes."

"Fine, fine," Santana said. "No, I don't want food. Just get me something to drink. But not water. Well, water, too. But something else."

"Okay," Shelby said as she picked up the room phone.

Santana waited until Shelby started talking to the room service representative and took a step back to wind up and spank Shelby's bare ass, making her yelp right into the phone.

Shelby spun, face red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry about that. Yes, I'm fine."

Santana couldn't stop laughing as she left Shelby to her ordering to freshen up a bit.

"That was _so_ rude!" Shelby barked when Santana emerged from the bathroom.

Santana had put on one of the robes to be ready to answer the door when room service arrived, though she had left it untied. "I'm not sorry," she said as she climbed into bed next to Shelby and unmuted the television.

They bickered about politeness and fun until room service interrupted. Santana answered the door, nearly forgetting to tie her robe before doing so. The young man blushed when he caught a glimpse of Santana's cleavage, and she smirked. She loved playing with boys.

"You're cute," she said as she leaned against the door.

"Um, thank you," he answered, blushing further as he nodded to the tray on his shoulder. "Where would you like this?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No." He adjusted the tray. "Please, ma'am, this is kinda heavy."

"You can put it on the bed," she said, stepping aside. For her own sake, she hoped Shelby heard her and took heed beneath the sheets. She let him pass and heard him croak another hello. "Maybe you'd like to join me and _my _girlfriend?"

He almost dropped the tray but it was close enough to the bed that it landed safely.

Santana glanced at Shelby who had managed to get the covers pulled over her in time. She looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights as she stared at Santana.

"So, whaddya say?"

The employee was clearly torn between embarrassment, excitement, and professionalism. "I need to go," he said quickly, bolting past Santana and out the door. She followed him to flip the extra locks, laughing at her little ruse.

"Santana Lopez!"

"Ooh are you going to get all schoolteacher on me again?" Santana said with a grin as she walked back to the tray to uncover what Shelby had ordered: a salad, a fruit plate, water, and an open bottle of champagne on ice. No strawberries and no whipped cream.

"You embarrassed that poor boy. And me!"

"Please," she replied, popping a grape into her mouth as she looked around for glasses. "You don't have a damn thing to be embarrassed about. You look hot as hell right now, all blushing with your sex hair."

Shelby blushed harder and her hands flew to her head to smooth her hair.

Santana dropped her robe and climbed back into bed with two plastic cups from the bathroom for the champagne. She handed the bottle to Shelby and ripped the cellophane off the cups. "Classy," she said.

Shelby poured and set the bottle back in the ice to take up one of the cups. She held it up. "To Broadway?"

"To Broadway."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	19. If I Can Make It Here, Part I

**A/N:** Hi, guys [gals]! Remember me? Sorry it's taken me so long to update this. And I'm not even giving you a very long chapter. I've had this chapter written for a long time and have been struggling to extend it, so instead of making you wait even LONGER, you can have it now.

* * *

><p>Before finally going to sleep Friday night, they promised one another they would be productive with the rest of their time in New York City that weekend.<p>

Of course, Shelby had to nearly drag Santana out of bed as she grumbled and groaned about being on vacation and wanting to sleep late. But eventually they made it through showers and dressing and down to the breakfast room.

"So how are do we do this?" Santana asked over a toasted bagel with cream cheese. "Walk around and look for FOR RENT signs?"

"Not exactly," Shelby answered as she pulled a yellow legal pad out of her purse. "I took the liberty of doing some research last week."

Santana watched her flip through it to a list of addresses. "You did? Let me see," she asked, reaching for it. It was meticulously formatted with not just the addresses, but details about available lease options, utilities, amenities, schools, parks, area businesses, and, of course, the rents.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to jinx anything. And I really tried to do it like we would have together and took into consideration things I thought you would."

Santana read down the list. "Oh?"

"Well, they all have law firms nearby. Not that law firms are in short supply here, but these are smaller ones that might not require a paralegal to be an assistant. Maybe it will help make finding a job easier."

Santana nodded and flipped through the notes slowly. She didn't know if she particularly wanted to find another legal assistant job. This impending move could be an opportunity to really start her life over – a partner, a daughter, a new home in the city in which she could be anything she wanted to be if she had enough drive. And luck. And talent. And connections. She had a connection now, in Shelby, who would be making waves as Broadway's brightest newcomer that came out of nowhere. She had Rachel, too, who was assuredly networking like crazy the moment she stepped off the train. Santana felt the gears of her mind start turning.

"Looks like you have it all figured out."

"You aren't upset, are you? I was thinking of you the entire time, I swear. I just needed to do it to settle my brain. There wasn't any part of this that I was self-centered about. Except not wanting to talk about it and jinx it."

"I believe you," Santana answered. She did believe her, but she was a tad miffed she hadn't been included. Granted, she knew nothing about real estate or New York City and Shelby had actually lived there, but it would have been nice to discuss.

"Okay. We're starting at the top. I mapped them all so we'll just make a big loop around the city. Well, two loops. We'll do everything north today and everything south tomorrow. Essentially."

"Whatever you say, Boss."

Shelby smiled around her sip of coffee.

"Or should I call you Ms. Corcoran?"

Shelby nearly spat out her coffee but managed to refrain. It took a moment for her to compose herself. "Maybe later."

"Nice," Santana said with a smug little smile.

* * *

><p>Apartment hunting was physically exhausting and mentally taxing, all walking and the rare subway ride if they had too far to go in the cold weather and waiting for the lessor to let them in or, in a couple cases, show up at all. Shelby had constructed a strict itinerary – not that Santana was surprised – to pack in as much as possible into the last day and a half in the city. It was Extreme Apartment Hunters: New York. Thirty-six hours to find and secure a new home.<p>

Their loop began and ended in Chelsea. Santana didn't know all the neighborhoods in Manhattan, but she was pretty sure they went through every single one of them that day. And both she and Shelby had definitive opinions about the apartments they viewed. If Shelby loved the natural light, Santana hated the too-small closet. If Santana loved the exposed brick, Shelby hated the floor plan. Eastern-facing windows versus western. Proximity to a park versus proximity to a subway stop. In-building laundry versus an elevator.

"I'm not hauling three people's worth of laundry two blocks every week."

"I'm the one that's going to be home during the day once previews start. I think I'm the one that gets to decide about laundry because you're going to be at work all day."

"Where do you think all your clothes are going to fit?"

"All _my_ clothes?"

They bickered and negotiated the entire day, until Santana couldn't listen to one more asinine piece of Shelby's reasoning.

"Fine! Pick your favorite one and we'll live there. I don't care anymore!" She quickened her steps, making Shelby hurry to catch up with her.

"No, this is _our_ new home. Tell me what you want!"

Santana stopped short. "Tell you what I want? I have told you at least fifteen things I wanted and liked and every single time, you found something wrong with what I liked or something that was _so_ bad it overruled me."

"That's not true!"

"Yes it is!" Santana yanked the notepad out of Shelby's purse, perhaps a tad more roughly than necessary. "Show me. Show me in your perfect Danny Tanner notes where you didn't _X_ it when I'd starred it. Go on." She shoved the notepad at Shelby and waited.

"You're making a scene."

"So what? Show me. Show me, oh gracious one, who has taken my one meager request to not have to use a Laundromat, where it hasn't been cancelled out by your need to have hardwood floors."

Shelby didn't take the notepad. She just stared at Santana, eyes hard.

"Exactly. Half these places have laundry and none of them are acceptable to you. You keep saying this is about us and our life and being partners but you only care if the place fits _your _specifications.

"Santana – "

"No. You promised me you would try. You promised you wouldn't make this all about you. But you are. So finish this without me. I'm going back to the hotel."

Santana was pissed. It had been brewing all day, from the moment Shelby had pulled out that damn notepad. She knew Shelby had no ill intentions when she made that list but when added to the mountain of dissenting opinions, it was too much.

This was her life, too. She was willing to pack up and move to an entirely new state, leaving behind her family and many of her friends so her girlfriend could chase her dream. And what was she getting in return? No say in what she would be signing her name to.

She didn't really know what she wanted. Her entire life had been upheaved less than twenty-four hours earlier and she was being forced to decide on something that she wanted time to consider.

Santana threw her coat on the chair and fell face-first into bed. She had the urge to kick and scream and throw a tantrum to rival one of Beth's. Instead she groaned and pulled a pillow over her head and counted back from twenty.

Shelby hadn't followed her to the hotel, and while unsurprised that she elected to stick to the schedule to accomplish what really was a very important task, Santana took it personally. She wanted Shelby to have chased after her and gotten on her knees to beg forgiveness for her inconsideration. However, enough time passed that she was able to decompress and let her brain talk sense back into her.

Shelby was stubborn. She had her reasons for what she wanted, as did Santana. Santana had blown up and left before they had even made a decision, so who was to say she would be the one to compromise? Maybe Shelby would be willing to if they actually sat down and discussed everything. They needed to do that, and soon.

Santana fell asleep grouchy, but when she woke up a couple hours later by fingernails tickling her back underneath her shirt, it was hard to be upset.

"'m still mad at you," she mumbled, refusing to open her eyes but unable to stop the shiver than ran through her. She felt the pillow over her head disappear, the cool air refreshing.

"I found a place for us," Shelby said quietly, continuing to tickle Santana's back from her seat next to her on the bed.

"With hardwood floors and a doorman?" Santana grumped.

"And a walk-in closet in the master bedroom and washer/dryer hookups _in_ the apartment."

"Liar."

"And a park across the street. And the 1-2-3 stops two blocks up."

"Next you're going to tell me it has an elevator."

"It's on the sixth floor."

"Great."

"And has an elevator."

"Where is it?" Santana was trying really hard to not get excited about something that sounded too good to be true.

"Not too far from here. It was the last one on the list."

Santana cracked one eye open to look up at Shelby, who seemed awfully smug. "What's the catch?"

"No short-term leases. If we're in, we're in for eighteen months."

"How much?"

"$4,500, including utilities."

"God damn," Santana said, sticker-shocked, as she sat up.

"It's _really_ nice. I think we should go see it together in the morning."

"But it's eighteen months. What happens after the first six when your show's over? We can't afford that."

"We'd be gambling. Six months is a standard initial offer. It could be extended, if I'm lucky. Maybe I can get another show, or do audition coaching. And we can put money aside in the meantime."

"We can put money aside? Just how much are you going to get paid?" Santana hadn't even realized until that moment they hadn't discussed it, and she had no idea how much Broadway performers earned.

Shelby shrugged. "I'm going to have my old agent work it out. Though I guess they aren't really my _old_ agent anymore. I suppose I should address that…"

"Shelby, how much?"

"Right now, it's $3,500."

"Per _month_?" That didn't add up. Even with Santana working full-time, they would barely be able to afford that apartment let alone put money into savings.

"Per week."

The air went out of Santana's lungs as she did the math. $3,500 per week. $14,000 per month. $168,000 per year.

"Holy fuck."

"Shh," Shelby said, laughing a little. "Don't underestimate how expensive it is to live here. We aren't going to be living like rock stars. Everything is at least twice as expensive here as it is in Lima."

Even so, they would be living comfortably. The possibility that she wouldn't have to be working a job she really didn't want only to contribute less than a quarter of what Shelby would be bringing home was exciting. Maybe she really could restart her life there. She forgot about being angry and left out and grabbed Shelby to pull her down on top of her and kiss her thoroughly.

"What, you think you found yourself a sugar mama now?" Shelby said with a smile when they parted.

"In my defense, I found you a long time ago. This is just an added perk."

"Are you still upset with me?"

"Not really," Santana said, feeling sheepish. "I just don't like being left out of things. You're my girlfriend, not my mother –"

"Thank God."

"- and I don't like it when it seems like I'm just…following you around, doing what you say."

"You sure seemed to like doing what I said yesterday."

"Stop it," Santana said, blushing a little as she remembered their little foray into role play. "I'm serious. We keep saying we're partners. We need to act like it. Don't keep something from me because you think you might jinx something. I mean, email me, or text me or send it via singing telegram if you don't want to say it out loud, but don't leave me out of things. It's driving me crazy."

Shelby sighed. "Why do I feel like we keep having the same argument?"

"Because you keep messing the same things up." She rapped her knuckles against Shelby's head like it was a door. "Your thick skull can't seem to let it through to your brain that I want us to be equals."

"I really am trying. I swear I am."

"Try harder," Santana replied, eyes narrowing a little. She wasn't angry anymore, but she really needed Shelby to knock off the bullshit.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't know if I should believe you again."

"Please forgive me."

Santana's breath caught. Shelby's hand was suddenly between her legs, pressing against her body insistently. She was still wearing jeans, but the intent and effect was clear.

"Quit trying to win me over with sex."

"Who said I was trying to win you over?" Shelby was grinning, her hand moving ever so slightly, just enough to make Santana twitch.

"Your actions imply otherwise." Santana tried not to react.

"My actions," Shelby said as she unbuttoned Santana's jeans and pushed her hand into them, "simply imply that I want to make love to you."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...(I promise!)<em>


	20. If I Can Make It Here, Part II

**A/N: Super short. Trying hard to not let y'all down and wait for weeks and weeks between updates.**

* * *

><p>Having accepted the fact that Shelby might really have found the perfect Manhattan apartment for their new home – a bitter pride pill to swallow – Santana accompanied her to their potential new home Sunday morning to meet with the broker and have a walkthrough. While she didn't necessarily think Shelby had lied about how great it was, she did question whether or not it might be too good to be true and was excited to see it for herself.<p>

Maybe she was a little nervous, too. This was a big investment, and not just financially. Shelby and Beth would move, there was no doubt about that. But Santana was on the verge of signing away the next eighteen months of her life. She wanted New York. She wanted Shelby. She wanted Beth. She wanted a family. But that didn't make it any less scary.

"This is it," Shelby said as she led them through a non-descript glass door, only to stop at a second identical door. Shelby pressed a button on an intercom system to the right and Santana saw a man in a suit at a desk just inside pick up a phone to answer it.

"Back again?"

"Couldn't stay away! We're meeting Janet here in a bit but she said we could come early?"

It was quiet for a moment and Santana saw the man shift a few things on his desk before nodding and responding. "Come on in."

The door buzzed and Shelby pulled, leading them into a nicely decorated lobby area.

"She left this for you," the man said, sliding a key onto the higher ledge of the desk.

"Thank you," Shelby said sweetly as she plucked the key from the counter. "James, this is my partner, Santana Lopez. Santana, this is James, the building's day doorman."

James stood and extended his hand, which Santana accepted and shook in greeting. "Nice to meet you, Miss Lopez. Will you be a resident here as well?"

"We'll see," Santana replied with a glance at Shelby.

* * *

><p>"What do you think so far?" Shelby asked when they stepped into an elevator around the corner from the lobby.<p>

"Too soon to tell," Santana said. She wasn't ready to let Shelby win quite so soon. She knew she would, though.

"There's a doorman."

"I noticed."

"And an elevator."

"Noticed that, too."

"More than one. Three, actually."

"So why is this Janet person not here yet?" Santana quipped, changing the subject slightly.

"I thought it might be nice to experience the place together for the first time alone, so we don't feel pressured by someone wanting their commission. I asked her if it would be possible, and while it isn't normal practice for security reasons, she made an exception for me."

"And why is that?"

"We used to work together here, a long time ago. We still keep in touch on Facebook and I remembered she's an apartment broker here now. She's doing me a favor and cutting us a deal on a lot of the up-front costs. And letting us view the apartment by ourselves."

The elevator floated to a stop on the sixth floor and Santana allowed Shelby off first, following her to the right and down a short hallway that only had two doors in it; Shelby stopped at the door to the left.

"Ready?"

Santana had to concede that Shelby's preparedness and attention to detail did seem to be working strongly in her (their) favor. "Let's see it."

Shelby unlocked a pair of deadbolts and pushed the door open, stepping aside to let Santana pass first.

Santana hoped she hadn't gasped aloud, but from Shelby's quiet laugh behind her, she guessed she had. The apartment was exquisite. Well, not exquisite in the over-the-top indulgent way, but in the way that felt like it was perfect. The door opened into a large main room with ceilings that must have been at least fifteen feet high, if not twenty. Tall windows lined the wall opposite the entry and sunlight poured into the room. The walls were pure white and freshly painted, the floors, a light hardwood.

Santana wandered. There was a fireplace to the left and kitchen to the right. All the appliances were stainless steel. Cabinet space seemed comparable to what they had in Shelby's condo, though it had more counter space.

Past the kitchen was a hallway lined with doors. The first was a guest bathroom. The next, Santana had to open – an empty closet.

"Stacking washer/dryer go here," Shelby said over her shoulder before kissing her cheek.

Exactly opposite it was a linen closet. A few more steps and they were standing in a bedroom.

"Beth's room," Shelby said with a smile. Santana could see her decorating the room in her imagination. Santana hoped they could paint the walls. The white felt so clean, but in a little girl's room, it felt uptight.

Next to Beth's would-be room was a smaller room – too small to be anything but a nursery or an office. "Office," Shelby said, confirming Santana's assumption.

When Santana turned, Shelby was on the other side of the hallway, hand on the doorknob of what she assumed had to be the master bedroom. Santana smiled and joined her.

"Is this where the magic happens?"

"I think that could be arranged," Shelby said as she swung open the door.

"Wow," Santana said, no longer trying to act unimpressed. The room was nearly as big as the main room. She crossed the floor to look out one of the nearly floor-to-ceiling length windows and saw that it overlooked a park. And not one of those all-concrete parks – a real park with grass!

Content with the view, she moved on to another closed door. She opened it without hesitation to find it led to the master bathroom. And it was perfect. In fact, it was surprisingly similar to the bathroom at their fancy cottage at the Michigan ski resort that they had loved so much. It was just more condensed – the walk-in shower was much smaller, though it still had two showerheads. There were even side-by-side sinks and plenty of room for two high-maintenance women like Shelby and Santana to do their hair and make-up simultaneously without getting in one another's way.

"Santana?"

Santana turned, seeing Shelby waiting in the center of the room. "This place is amazing."

"Come here," Shelby said, extending her arm and wiggling her fingers. "One more thing to show you."

"What else could possibly be in this place?" Santana asked as she grabbed Shelby's hand to be pulled toward a wall. She hadn't noticed the pocket door in it until Shelby pushed it to the side, revealing a massive walk-in closet.

"This."

"Holy shit." Santana exhaled, striding forward into the closet, all but dragging Shelby in behind her.

Shelby chuckled and Santana felt herself embraced from behind. "It's twice as big as the one at home."

"I can tell. I call the right side."

"They're identical."

"You want the right side?"

"You can have it, sweetheart," Shelby said, kissing Santana's cheek.

A female voice yelling, "Shelby!" startled them.

"That's Janet," Shelby explained. "In the bedroom!" she called over her shoulder.

"Where? Oh – Shelby, come on out of the closet."

Shelby laughed and turned to greet the listing agent and her long-time friend. "Been there, done that."

"I've been waiting to tell you that for fifteen years. This must be the woman I heard so much about yesterday?"

Santana blushed a little and shook the woman's outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you."

* * *

><p>The agent walked them through the details of the rental agreement, and two hours later they were lessors of an upscale Chelsea apartment.<p>

"You should just get it out of the way now," Santana said as they hurriedly packed at the hotel. Their flight was leaving in less than two hours.

"What do you mean?" Shelby asked from the bathroom where she was gathering their toiletries.

"I know you're dying to say, 'I told you so.'" Santana was teasing – though she knew Shelby likely did want to comment on her success – and she hoped her tone was clear.

"Me? Boast about my success in finding us the perfect apartment? I'm offended you think so little of me."

Santana rolled her eyes and zipped their suitcase. "Right."

"But feel free to commend me on my achievement."

Santana ignored the comment. She would be commending Shelby on her achievement that night once they were back in their own bed. They'd both need it after the inevitable discussion they'd be having with Puck in a few short hours. "You got everything?"

"Yeah I think so," Shelby answered as she stuffed her feet into a pair of Uggs.

She had flown into New York City dressed to impress and was returning to Ohio in floppy boots and Santana's sweatpants. As sexy as Santana found Shelby to be when she dressed in tailored pants and flattering blouses and stilettos, she much preferred the sloppy, messy ponytailed Shelby who was swinging a duffle bag and purse onto her shoulder. She was far more real that way.

"After you," Santana said with a smile as she held the hotel room door.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	21. I'll Make It Anywhere

**A/N: So, a year later I finally found the time, desire, and inspiration to properly finish this story. I'm sorry for abandoning it, and thank you for all your feedback!**

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, you're moving to New York?"<p>

Santana glanced at Shelby, and back at Puck. His face had gone white, but was quickly becoming red.

"Noah, I'm not doing this to take Beth away from you."

"But that's exactly what you're doing – I'm not that stupid."

Shelby sighed, clearly not willing to engage his anger. "You can visit whenever you like."

"Yeah, like I can afford to fly to New York every other weekend on a pool boy's salary."

"And we'll come back to Lima to visit. Santana's family is here. And you and Quinn. We'll be back."

"Does Quinn know?"

"Not yet," Shelby answered. "But, she was hopeful we'd be able to move closer. Yale is just a train ride away for her."

Puck stood up abruptly, rattling the silverware on the dining room table. He was obviously angry, and Santana could see him struggling to decide what to say. Instead, he stormed out of the apartment without another word, slamming the door behind him. Tires squealed on the asphalt a few second later.

"That went well," Shelby said with a sigh before draining the last of the red wine from her glass.

Santana shrugged and offered to refill Shelby's glass – which she accepted. "I don't know. I mean, he didn't punch anything. He knows there's nothing he can do to stop you from leaving, and he knows you don't mean to hurt him."

"Are we doing the right thing?" Shelby asked, her eyes worried.

"You mean is accepting the role of a lifetime and moving to New York with your daughter and your super hot girlfriend the right thing?" Santana was smirking; she knew Shelby could never resist it.

As expected, Shelby laughed. "Okay, fine. Then I suppose we should start thinking about packing."

"Nope."

"No?"

Santana took Shelby's half-full wine glass and finished it. "No."

It was Shelby's turn to smirk. "And why's that?"

Santana stood up and edged the dining table back just enough so she could straddle Shelby's lap, arms draped over her shoulders. "We have other plans tonight."

* * *

><p>"Why the fuck are there so many parts?!" Santana was seconds away from hurling an electric screwdriver through the window before Shelby ran in and grabbed it from her hand.<p>

"Hey hey hey! I don't want to lose our deposit in our first week! What's the problem?"

Santana was pissed. She volunteered to assemble the dresser Shelby had purchased for Beth's new room, assuming it to be relatively simple. How hard could children's furniture be?

"It's all in Chinese or something, I don't know. And the pictures don't make any sense!"

"Okay, okay!" Shelby sat down on the floor behind Santana, wrapping her arms around her waist. "Take a break. We'll finish it later."

Santana felt her anger melt away – it still amazed her that a simple touch from Shelby could make her disappear. She closed her eyes and leaned back into Shelby. "Stupid instructions," she muttered.

Shelby chuckled and pressed a kiss to Santana's temple. "You're doing a good job."

They both looked at what Santana had been able to accomplish – three boards, assembled in a U-shape. One of them was obviously crooked.

"Fuck off," Santana laughed, pressing herself backwards til Shelby had no choice but to lay back. Santana turned over, half-lying on Shelby, head propped on her fist. She grinned down at Shelby. "When are we going to properly christen this place? It's been three days."

"You actually have the energy for sex after moving halfway across the country and unpacking for three days?"

"Must be my youthful exuberance." Santana's free hand was wandering, and it was finding its way under Shelby's loose-fitting vintage concert tee. "Besides, how often are we both going to be home, alone, in the middle of the day?"

"What's so exciting about the middle of the day?" Shelby's voice skipped an octave on her last word; Santana's fingertips had found her nipple and were tugging on it – and not very gently.

"Everyone else is at work." Santana worked her knee between Shelby's, meeting little resistance. "I can make you scream and no one will hear you."

Shelby's eyes darkened. "How are you going to do that?"

Santana moved her hand lower, grazing Shelby's abdomen, teasing the edge of her shorts. "I have my ways."

"Show me?" Shelby was starting to squirm.

"But I thought you were too exhausted?" Santana asked, feigning innocence as she pushed Shelby's shorts down over her left hip.

"I lied," Shelby breathed before pulling Santana down by the front of her shirt, crushing their lips together.

Santana laughed through their kiss, relishing the effect she still had on Shelby. She kissed her back, hard, sucking on Shelby's tongue when it pushed into her mouth. They fumbled together until Shelby's shorts were down to her knees and Santana finally pulled away from the kiss, both of them gasping for air.

"We're on the floor," Shelby breathed.

"Is that a problem?" Santana asked. She was already on her knees between Shelby's ankles. The shorts were somewhere in the boxes behind her.

"No." Shelby was already sweating – Santana could see it on her neck. It wasn't even hot in the room, and it turned her on even more.

"Good." She lay down between Shelby's legs, immediately putting her legs over her shoulders to have a better angle. She didn't hesitate, working her tongue against Shelby in the exact way she knew drove her absolutely crazy.

"Fuck!"

Santana loved it when Shelby cursed. She loved it more when she was the reason. Suddenly she felt like she couldn't get enough of her, that she couldn't be close enough. She pushed herself closer and shrugged Shelby's leg off her right shoulder, pushing it back and away to have even better access. She didn't hesitate, or tease, and she wasn't particularly gentle, but her fingers slid into Shelby with ease.

"Fuck yes…fuck me baby, fuck me."

Santana would have gasped if she could have. They were hardly reserved with each other, but this was getting downright dirty. And she gave Shelby exactly what she was begging for. It was fast, and rough, and frenzied, and just as she'd promised, she had Shelby screaming within minutes.

When the tension finally left Shelby's body, Santana sat back on her knees, making a show of wiping off her mouth.

Shelby laughed and covered her face with a hand, peeking out between her fingers. "Stop."

Santana stroked Shelby's legs lightly. "_Now_ you're going to be modest?"

Shelby let her hand fall away. She was smiling. And glowing. "Apparently I needed that."

"Apparently," Santana said with a grin.

"Oh no, what time is it?" Shelby asked as she struggled to get off the floor.

Santana stood up and grabbed her hands to pull her to her feet. "I don't know; why?"

"I have a meeting with the director and a couple producers at 4:00."

"And so it begins."

"Sorry, babe. I owe you one." Shelby kissed Santana quickly and disappeared into the bathroom, the shower faucet turning on a moment later.

"Or three!" Santana called after her. She was turned on and was going to have to ignore it. Briefly she considered finishing herself off – it would only take a few seconds. Instead, she picked up her electric screwdriver and refocused her energy on assembling the dresser.

It was assembled – correctly – before Shelby left for her meeting.

* * *

><p>Within a few weeks, their new life had taken shape. Santana found a job – by some miracle, her Lima attorney knew an attorney with a small firm in New York and had given her a recommendation. She still wasn't sure if it's what she wanted; one day she would think about working on her admissions applications to Columbia, NYU, or maybe Berkeley – she wasn't sure if she wanted to take the law or the public relations path – and the next day, she'd listen to Shelby's stories from rehearsal or run lines with her as she learned the script, and realize how much she missed performing.<p>

"You could apply to Juilliard," Shelby suggested one night over dinner.

"And if I fail to break into the biz, I've wasted years earning a degree that does nothing for me."

"So get a business degree." Shelby was at the sink with Beth, wiping the toddler's hands and face.

"Ugh!" Santana dropped her face into her hands. "That sounds so boring!"

"You know you'll make a great trial lawyer. I'm not the first person to tell you that."

"Because I love to fight."

"Because you love to _win_."

Santana sighed.

"How about this," Shelby said, setting Beth on the floor to scamper off and play. "Why don't you apply to the universities and start working on a practical degree – business, marketing, PR, law – and do some singing on the side. I still know a few people here. I can make some calls, see who you need to talk to to start singing in the Village. I'm sure you can book some gigs on Bleecker. That's where I got my feet wet performing. Hope for the best, plan for the worst. Not that business or marketing or PR or law is the worst, but I think it's good to have a Plan B. Maybe in a few years, you can be my publicist," Shelby added with a smile. "That is, if I still need one. Who knows what will happen after _Gypsy_."

Santana scoffed and rolled her eyes, but she felt something clicking in her mind. Shelby's suggestion made sense. She looked up. "I can be your publicist."

"Mine, or whoever's."

It made sense – it all made so much sense! For the first time since she could remember, she knew what she wanted to do. She could have fun playing in dive bars, she could get a real education, have a stable career, and still be involved in the entertainment world she'd longed to be part of for the last several years. She needed to look up college application deadlines – immediately.

"I have to go." She scrambled from the table, rushing to their bedroom to grab her laptop from its charger. "Sorry, I'll clean up dinner tomorrow, I promise!" she called from the bed.

She heard Shelby laugh. "Let me know if you need help!"

* * *

><p><strong>Six years later…<strong>

"We secured an offer for you to appear on _Good Morning America_ on the 29th. It would be a performance and interview. You're clear on the 28th."

"Fine," Shelby said from her closet where a stylist was playing dress-up with her to choose a dress for her upcoming opening night – a revival of _Evita_.

Santana paused her typing. "What was that?"

Shelby's head popped around the corner. "I said that's fine. Thank you."

"I'll confirm it." A few keystrokes later and Shelby Corcoran was booked on _Good Morning America_ – in addition to the numerous other appearances on her calendar over the next few months. Email inbox clear, Santana switched calendars.

"Beth's recital is tomorrow at 3:00; don't forget."

"I won't."

"Our dress fittings are immediately after, at 5:00. Beth is going for pizza with her class."

"I remember you telling me that."

"Cake tasting's on Friday, and you can't keep making me reschedule our meeting with the Tea Room – they're getting pissed off and I can only sweet talk them so much. We have to see it on Sunday or they're going to tell us to find somewhere else for the reception, Broadway star or not."

"I know, I know." Shelby popped around the corner again, nearly topless as her stylist awkwardly adjusted and readjusted her strapless bra behind her. "I haven't thanked you enough for handling this. I wish I could do more, it's just –"

Santana closed her laptop and removed her glasses. She didn't _really_ need them, but she found people took her more seriously with glasses – especially men. Not that she couldn't put them in their place if necessary, but during her first summer internship at one of New York's top PR firms, she had adopted a more strategic, less in-your-face approach to getting what she wanted and it had served her well. She was now one of that firm's most promising new publicists - and she had brought with her the new face of Broadway as her first client.

"You might wanna get your hands off my fiancée's tits, Lauren," she called to the stylist, hearing a quiet, "Sorry," in return.

"I like when you get jealous," Shelby said, grinning. "But really though, thank you."

Santana stood up and crossed the room to press a kiss to Shelby's smiling lips. "Well, someone has to plan this wedding if you're ever going to make an honest woman out of me."

**The end.**


End file.
